Paper Cuts
by Mr. Fishy
Summary: It was slightly akin to getting soap in your eye. LilyMiley
1. Purple Whales

**DISCLAMIER: **… Come now, must we do this? I do not own it. If I did… well it would be a little different.

**Author's Note: **This is an experiment. In all brutal honesty it would be better if you knew nothing of the Hannah Montana TV show, because the only thing I'm keeping similar are the names, everything else is up for grabs. I'm trying something new, if it doesn't work, oh well. It's a little messy at the moment, so, please, bear with me.

"One Art"friends, have no fear I will return. The story and I are currently having a disagreement, a minor tiff that will blow over (fingers crossed.)

**Rated: **_**M- **_language, adult content, drugs… and everything else that could be bad for young eyes.

……

_**Paper Cuts-**__ Inspired by the leaders of dark English discussions in__room 103, you know who you are…_

……

_October 12, 2011- Journal Entry #20_

"Don't ever tell anybody anything. If you do, you start missing everybody." -J.D. Salinger, The Catcher in the Rye. 

_Holden is my best friend. Why is that storybook characters understand me so much better then people in the real world? I think it's odd. _

_This entry is such a waste. I have nothing to write about. Maybe I should just start writing down quotes instead of my thoughts. Quotes usually sum things up a hell of a lot better then I ever could. I wonder if Mr. Gunter the evil one will like that. _

_Whatever._

_Ciao._

….

_Drip… drip… _Shit!

The tub is wet. The water soaks my jeans. I lean my head back and sigh. The tub is my statuary, my home. I leave the lights off. School is a heavy burden that still stings, even now, two hours later. But the tub welcomes me, even with it's damp surface. I close my eyes.

I have a secret.

I want to be a whale.

Yes.

In the fifth grade we had to paint pictures of sea creatures I chose the whale and painted it purple. I want to be a giant purple whale floating in the water alone and peaceful, like now, here in my tub. My white fortress, so smooth and strong. I take a deep breath. I wait a moment before letting it go. The air leaves my lungs and my chest deflates. It feels good, breathing like that. Taking deep gulps of the air and letting it sit in your system, your body. I hold my breath again.

I wonder how long it would take. What if I just didn't breathe out? What if I kept holding this old air? Would it become like dust on the shelves of my lungs? I close my eyes and sink into the tube. Suicide is a fickle thing. I let the air slowly hiss from my parted lips. But suicide is not for me.

That doesn't mean it hasn't crossed my mind. It normally happens in moments like these- just sitting, just tired, just bored out of my skull. But suicide is so messy. I'm a wimp when it comes to physically pain. I could never really do it. My socks are completely soaked. I lean over with a grunt and slide my freezing feet out of them and toss the blue socks over the side of the tub. They make a quiet _splat!_ on the tile floor.

"Honey?" Her voice seeps from under the closed door and a soft knock sounds along after.

I roll my eyes. "What?"

"Can I come in?" She asks. I stare at the white ceiling and consider it, holding my breath… holding my breath.

"Honey?"

"Yeah!" My voice is hard and I know it will earn me a sour frown from her. The white bathroom door opens and she glares at me.

"Lilly, why on earth do you insist on sitting in that tub? And pick your wet socks up off the floor." She turns to the mirror and fixes her lipstick.

I don't move.

She's wearing her black cocktail dress accompanied by the pretty pearls that dad got her for her birthday years ago. She fluffs her shoulder length blonde hair and frowns over the wrinkles forming around her mouth.

"You going out?"

She turns on her heel. "I've got that promotion party tonight, remember? Your dad and I should be back around eleven. Didn't we tell you?"

"Nope." I say with a sigh and picking at the loose thread on my jeans.

"Oh." Her lips come together. "Well… now you do."

Next she slips into the black high heeled shoes. Then, squirts the tiniest amount of Dianna Karen perfume onto her wrists. Lastly, turns around twice in the large floor length mirror to examine herself.

"Well…" She sounds bored. "We'll be off. Remember not to stay up too late, school tomorrow… if I don't see you in the morning then…" She leans down and kisses the top of my head. It's awkward. "Bye Lilly." The door closes.

What the hell happened to us?

I know. I wish I didn't. But it's all my fault, isn't it? Screw it. I get up and throw my socks in the dirty clothes basket and walk out of the bathroom. I collapse onto my parents red bed. My body sinks into the comforter; I keep my face pressed into the fabric. Vaguely, in the foggy pit called my mind I know I have homework to do.

_English_: Read some section of Moby-Dick. 

_Math_: Page something or other numbers 5 to a billion (odd only.)

_European History_: France's Revolution, book report due tomorrow, I had a week to complete it, oops.

And then there's more… but remembering was always a flaw of mine. I roll over; laziness is an asset to my daily routine. Getting up sluggishly I walk to the garage; it has a very musky smell to it an interesting cross between cigarette smoke (that's mine) and gasoline, never a good combination.

There it is, my holy grail of happiness: The drums.

I take a seat on the stool of my beautiful red drum set. The drumsticks are tucked snuggly in a small pouch under the stool, I pull them out. Quickly, I say a pray to the rock gods of the past and then-

A long drum roll it rattles like a snake until I strike up a heavy beat. Perfect, perfect, I hit the base. The garage shakes under my power. Maybe I like being in control, having the upper hand. I put my head down as my hands steady the roaring drumsticks on the snare.

I like this.

This is my stable drug.

My favorite part of the ending day.

Almost there, the climax of my song comes like the climax of a good fuck. Almost…. Almost… there… there it is. I bring the tune back in, fading out on the cymbals. As I place the drumsticks down I feel the tears forming around my eyes, but I will not let them fall. No tears.

I sniff loudly and rub my nose into my sweater. What is happening to me?

……

**Author's Note: **I've got bigger and better things planned for this. Lots of self loathing, anger turned inward, and many mature thoughts/actions/ideas… Leave your thoughts. (Oh, and yes this is a Lily/Miley story, your eyes have not deceived you. It just might take a while for her to _really _be in the story… if that makes any sense at all.) Confused yet? … By the way I'm nervous as hell to know what you think. Currently biting fingernails.


	2. The Truth About Hugs

_November 3, 2011- Journal Entry #32_

_I like bathrooms. There, is that random enough for you? I think it's weird that you asked us to tell you a random fact about ourselves, weird, but not internally stupid. Anyway, back to bathrooms. _

_I like the smallness of the atmosphere. I like small closed in places, as long as I'm by myself. I can't stand being closed in with a million other people. Makes me nervous, sweaty and a little unstable. _

_But bathrooms… their just nice. Nice, clean spotless bathrooms. The tub is my weakness. I can sit there and feel so safe. It's an escape, one that doesn't involve a lighter. (Not that I smoke or anything.) _

_Want another fact? _

'_Course you do. _

_I love socks, and mittens, and scarves. All winter/ autumn clothing. Just the sheer warmth makes me feel so fuzzy and happy. Alright, I'm done. You're writing something on the board and today I just might listen…_

_Ciao. _

…..

Hugs are great, right? Their like fucking great. But sometimes they hurt… sting a little maybe. Because a hug usually means a goodbye in my case. I love those hugs when your face gets stuck in that person's neck. When you kind of become apart of them.

Their scent is all over you. In your nose, on your lips, smeared across your cheek. And it's this magical moment where you just… don't think. Your arms are around this other person, this other warm body. And you're not thinking about how,

Their leaving.

Their crying.

Their not breathing, because their dying.

I don't like good byes. I try hard to avoid them. Craig says their inedible, no way to back down from it. Well, Craig is a total ass and understands nothing. Because I always can skip those good byes. The problem? It hurts.

It hurts in that place in my chest that place buried deep. So deep, in fact, that it's almost gone, a little icy, it's black.

…..

"Oh. My. _God_. Lily, I'm so going to fail!"

Oliver is such a pussy. "No your not, now shut-up. Or my foot is going up your ass."

He is quiet after this. I smile in simple satisfactory and look down. My pencil taps the desk. This is stupid. Tests are worthless.

All they show is you're a good monkey who can bubble in letters. Where is it on the test that I can play the drums? Or the guitar? Where does it show that I'm wicked when it comes to fixing the kitchen sink? Or better yet that I'm an indie queen and music bleeds from me.

Portishead!

Garbage!

The New Pornographers!

Cary Brothers!

Rilo Kiley!

These artists are my heroes. They are my brothers and sisters of alternative thinking. Because, of this I'm sure, if there is a heaven it is a coffee shop where you sit and discuss the endless notes on a scale of music.

But that isn't anywhere on the test. Today, I'm a fucking monkey. I circle the letter 'B' and move on.

…

**Author's Note: **A more structured approach is next. Leave your thoughts.


	3. Elementary Rules

_October 15, 2011- Journal Entry #23_

"Nothing can happen nowhere. The locale of the happening always colors the happening, and often, to a degree, shapes it."-Elizabeth Bowen.

_Mr. Gunter, this is a journal entry I truly don't mind you reading. _

_I don't know why but I really like this quote. _

_Do you think it's possible to know when something is coming? Like something life changing. You don't know what it is, or when it will happen, but its coming and it will be huge. _

_Do you ever feel like that?_

_Ciao. _

I'm chewing spearmint flavored gum and it's now that I realize how much I hate chewing gum. I spit it out in the trashcan just as Oliver comes running over.

"You hear about us getting a new student?"

I shake my head. "How is it that you hear everything before me?" I ask as we walk down the science hall.

"Just one of the many perks of having a girlfriend who works in the office." He smiles proudly and we turn the corner.

"How is Sarah these days?" I sigh fixing my hold on the four books I'm dragging.

"She's cool. A little stressed about her acceptance letters." Oliver admits. "It's all we've been talking about…"

I hate college talk. I hate future talk.

"So tell me about the new student?" I really want to get off the subject.

"Lets see…" Oliver sits down in the back row with me in our math class. "Her name is Miley Stewart…. She's moving in from LA."

"Really! That's so wicked… but who in their right mind would move from awesome LA to boring Tennessee?"

Oliver just laughs. "You know, for the small town charm of course!"

I look around our room at all the dimwits. There's Sherri, the head cheerleader with all her little miens, they might be hot but still oh so bitchy.

Oh, there's Craig. The kid might kill on the electric guitar (which is cool for the band Oliver and I co-own) but still. I mean he's currently trying to lick his elbow.

"What charm?" I frown.

Oliver rolls his eyes. "Anyway, this Miley girl seems pretty cool. She's a senior like us, a good B student and… well there was a flaw in her report. It said she took some time off school for some personal reason… I don't know it was really vague."

"Interesting." I smirk lacing my fingers together. "So she's a loony?"

"I never said that." Oliver says sternly. "She's a good girl Lily; don't fuck with her, okay?"

"You seem pretty tense, should Sarah be jealous?" I snicker.

"No, it's just…" He trails off.

"Just what?" I snap as Mrs. Burns begins the day's math lesson. "Go on Oliver." We've been through these conversations. I'm crazy, he's stable. I'm the horny lesbian and he's the perfect boy every parent dots upon.

"Nothing, alright just drop it." He seems a little pissy, so I do. I sit back in my seat and cross my arms. I love Oliver, we've been friends since second grade when I punch Jerry Sanders in the nose for poking fun at "_sweet sensitive_" Oliver but sometimes I really want to strangled the boy. I think it's partly because of all the time we spend together. But then again I need him. Oliver brings me back to reality. He never let me fall when times got bad… really bad.

"So when is she coming?"

Oliver shrugs. "It didn't say, but most likely some time during this week."

I nod.

The bell rings, class is dismissed.

……

Mr. Gunter is a fat old man with a bushy mustache who is in love with the novels and short essays of Ernest Hemmingway.

The one running assignment in Mr. Gunter's class is the journal entries. He'll often give us a prompt other times he likes us to, "Expand our minds and reach out to the world around us." Meaning we can write about anything ranging from Global Warming to hair styles.

I prefer doodling in my journal. Today I'm sketching out a tree. Yesterday it was a cloud. Mr. Gunter is talking about something: "Blah, blah, Moby-Dick blah, blah, pay attention Lily! Blah, blah, I mean it!"

I like the guy, just not when he gets off on one of his literary rants which happens very often. Most AP kids are taking notes; I'm still drawing my tree.

I'm not sure why I'm even in this AP English class… wait scratch that I do know why. I'm a compulsive liar. Last year we had to write an essay about what was important to us. My thesis statement was about the student's individual right to their own artistic freedom. It was pretty long. And I guess the English teachers really liked it, because they got together and published it in a local magazine.

It was really cool. Some kids wanted me to sign their magazine and stuff, but the novelty wore off. As Robert Frost once said: "Nothing can stay golden." I hate him for being so right.

…..

Band practice is every Tuesday after school, during the time we're suppose to be working on all that homework. It's usually held at my house after my parents have left for their evening affairs.

Oliver arrives first with his base guitar in hand and next comes striding in Craig with his girlfriend of the day. Today is a very leggy red head, with nice plump lips, all in all good looking but completely brain dead. She giggles as Craig plugs up his equipment.

I sit on my stool and click my drumsticks together. "One, two, one two three!" I call out before slamming down hard. My microphone is set up over the drums. As tension builds I cry out as a back up vocalist.

This is Craig's song. Not mine. He wrote it and it's not _that_ bad. Usually, being lead singer, my word is law. But he came to me with this little tune and I had to use it. He's thick voice comes in heavy and deep. Oliver has his head down as he jams.

My hands race to stay with the pace. My hair is coming out of it's loose bun. That's okay, I close my eyes. I slap the cymbals with the very tip of my drumstick and let the _crash!_ sound take hold of me.

"Great practice!" I smile wiping the sweat from my forehead. Oliver is locking up his base.

"I know! You think we'll be ready for a gig at the up coming armature night at Club Five?" He asks as Craig attacks the red head with his lips.

"I think so." I frown staring at the grope fest going on in _my _garage. "Hey guys?"

Nothing. I take my paper cup and throw it at Craig's head. "Wh-What?" He asks rubbing his head.

I glare.

Oliver chuckles.

The red head pouts. "Come on Craigy baby." She leads him out of my garage and the two drive off. Oliver shakes his head with a laugh.

"Why are we friends with that guy again?"

"We're not friends." I say harshly packing up my music notes and scales. "He's a business partner."

"Fine." Oliver says humoring me. (Bless that boy.) "So how have you been?"

I hate it when he gets all mushy. I know what he wants, but not today Ollie boy, no way. "I'm good." I answer with a nonchalant wave.

"What about your mom? Dad?" Why is he pushing?

"Their fine." I say flatly.

"Lily…"

I throw the music sheets down, now I'm annoyed. "What do you want? What do you want to hear? Yes! My mom is still fucking another guy. Yes! My dad is still drinking scotch every night… Oliver just let it all go. I mean how long now? Four years?"

He's standing with his back hunched over. "I just thought you should be more open about it. I mean… well… you seem off."

"So what if I' am. Can't a person be a little sad every now and then?" I walk over and place my hand on his shoulder. "Oliver, I'm fine, really. You're a good guy, thanks for looking out for me."

I wait until Oliver is safe in his car and far away before pulling out a cigarette. It's funny, the habits we pick up from other people. I light it. I feel the wind picking up. I take a long drag. Breathe out. Ahhh….

I just need something on the days my little white tub doesn't quite cut it. Smoking is bad, I know. We learned that in elementary school. No drugs! No alcohol! Got it. But no one ever said real life was this bad.

…

**Author's Note: **This is a lot different from my other writing styles, I know. I just felt like a change. Hopefully, it's not too unbearable. And yes I have horrible spelling skills, sorry about that. Leave your thoughts.


	4. Obsessive Compulsory Disorder

Mr. Gunter is being boring again.

We're discussing the simplistic and straight forward approach Hemmingway takes in writing out his famous work: "Farewell to Arms." Personally, I'm not a fan of Hemmingway. I'd much rather invest my time in Ray Bradbury. Now there's a guy who is one with words.

The door opens. The class turns together, we act like one animal all shifting to get a better view. A girl walks in.

Long, curl brown hair.

Blue eyes.

Small smile.

She hands Mr. Gunter a piece of orange paper and he stokes his mustache and smiles. He claps his fat puffy hands together, "Class, class! It seems we have a new student among us. Miss," He checks the paper, "Miley Stewart."

I smile and lean back in my chair. She's really pretty. Got good legs, she's wearing a very respectful skirt that sits just past her knees. Her hair is down reaching well past her shoulders. I take another good look.

Her lips are nice and full. Her hands are small. As Mr. Gunter brings her to the front of the room she becomes flustered, very cute.

"Would you like to share anything with the class?"

Miley opens and closes her mouth. She shakes her head.

"Very well." Mr. Gunter grins. "You may find an empty seat, after class I will discuss your reading list for the year."

She sits across from me, the only seat left. Her motions are very stiff. She sits up perfectly straight compared to my slouching back. She pulls out a blue pen and notebook. She is diligently following the class discussion, even cuter, a bookworm.

"Pssst! Miley? Pssst!"

Oh how subtle.

Princess Prissy, student council President, co-captain of the cheer squad, and leader of the BETA team, my arch nemesis Jamie Andrews leans sideways to get Miley's attention. Miley shyly turns to her.

Jamie holds out a well manicured and freshly sanitized hand to Miley. It's an awkward handshake to Miley. Her face scrunches up and I shuffle a quick laugh.

"Welcome to Greenstone High School. I hear you're from LA, is that true?"

Miley nods. "Y-Yes." She says in a fairly thick southern accent. "But I'm from here originally."

"Oh." Jamie's face closes up.

"Hey!" Another buttface classmate of mine leans in, Heather King. "What was LA like? Wasn't it beautiful! I've always wanted to go!"

"It was… nice." Miley replies her eyes looking scared, deer in the headlights.

"Well that's disappointing." A big nosed kid named Adam adds. "You're not what we were expecting."

He's a jerk.

Miley looks a little offended. "And what were we expecting?" I laugh. She looks at me. I can't explain the feeling in my stomach, but it's really good.

"Someone… someone more city. More urban." Heather says making a wild gesture with her head. The class discussion of Hemmingway has ended. Mr. Gunter assigns us reading homework and sits down at his desk.

Miley shakes her head. "Well, sorry?" She apologizes to the group. They sigh.

"Don't listen to them." I tell her sitting up a little. She smiles and pushes back the hair falling in her eyes. Her long sleeved sweater gets pulled down a little and I see it.

A small black star tattoo on her wrist.

Ooh. Lily likey.

She sees what I'm staring at and quickly covers it up with her sweater sleeve. Her cheeks grow red and she turns around to stare at the board.

…..

"You meet her yet?" Oliver's girlfriend Sarah bounces excitedly.

I think this is the shitty part about living in a small town and having an even smaller high school, everyone knows everyone. You can't hide anything for long.

"Yeah, I met her." I say, we're currently sitting at the lunch table. I bite into my apple and munch merrily away.

"I have Physics with her." Oliver tells us before biting into his sandwich.

Why the hell would anyone want to take Physics?

"So what'd you think of her?" I ask Oliver.

"Pretty nice. I let her barrow my book."

"You see her tattoo?" I smirk.

Sarah chokes on her water. "W-What?!"

"Can I… can I sit here?"

We turn are heads at a timid voice from behind us. Miley is standing looking a little lost and her eyes are wide with fear. The lunchroom on your first day can be slightly nerve racking. "Sure!" I say, a little too loudly while shoving my stuff to the side. She gracefully slides into the chair. Her skirt rides up a little more and I catch a quick glimpse of her thigh, yummy indeed.

"How's your fist day?" Sarah asks politely.

"Good." Miley mutters staring off. Oliver is clearly looking for that tattoo he keeps moving around in his seat his eyes going down and up, silly boy.

The lunchroom is packed and very loud. We stay quiet for a good while before Oliver smiles at Miley and says, "So what made your family drop everything and move here?"

Miley's face is a little pale under this light. "I… well it's just me and my dad. My brother is already in college. My dad grew up here and it's really a boring story… he just thought it would be better for me down here."

"Was the LA life just too much!" Sarah giggles and smiles brightly.

Miley's face cringes slightly before laughing weakly and agreeing with Sarah. "Yeah… too fast."

And so my obsession with her begins.

……

_October 18, 2011- Journal Entry#25_

"Like branches of a tree we grow in different directions, yet our roots remain as one. Each of our lives will always be a special part of the other's." –Unknown.

_I'm not sure I really understand what it is about meeting new people. It's exciting, those first few days where your learning about each other. But sometimes it's really hard, because you can't them in too much._

_Some things are better left unsaid. Because then you can move on and forget about all the bad. Meeting new people, new friends, means you have to dig the past back up and explain yourself. "Why are you so angry?" or "Why are you so depressed?" You have to explain. I hate explaining. _

_But I want to be her friend. I've never had a good friend who was a girl before. _

_Ciao._

My car is so crappy. I don't care what Oliver says about vintage this thing is a piece of shit. But it's my shit so I call it Ernie.

Ernie is blue and slightly rusted and since I know nothing about cars it's a car… I don't know what brand. Ernie has trouble going up high hills. He tends to whine and moan and on special occasions shut down all together. But Ernie and I have been through too much for me to just dump him. So he stays.

I get inside my car and close the door. I toss my binder in the back and start up the engine (_errrchhhhrrrr_, that's starting up in Ernie lingo.) I start backing out of my parking spot.

"WATCH OUT!"

I slam on my breaks too hard and Ernie cries. I pat the dashboard and then turn him off and jump out of my car. I see the problem. I could have easily hit the other car that was pulling out the same time I did. But it's their fault, dumbass.

They give me an unfriendly wave of their finger and speed off. Grumbling now, I walk back over to my car. My eyes catch Miley walking out of the school. She's carrying two library books. My stomach lurches, but in a good way.

She stops on the corner and begins looking for someone, her head craning over the crowd. Taking a deep breath I walk over. I don't know why I'm so nervous.

"Uh… hey!" I say waving my hand.

"Oh." Miley's face snaps out of its dazed state.

"So… are you waiting on someone?" Stupid question, so stupid, of course she's waiting for someone!

"Yeah, my dad." She answers clutching her books tighter. I scratch my arm. This was a bad idea.

"Would you like a ride home?" It surprises the hell out of me, after a long moment, she nods and says,

"Sure."

We walk over to Ernie and get in she pulls out her phone and calls her dad.

"Hey daddy… no someone's bringing me home. I will… I understand. Stop it, and _she,_" Huge emphasis on she, "Will get me home on time. Bye." She closes the phone and blushes. "Sorry… over protective dad."

I nod even though I don't know what that means. My dad and I haven't had a normal conversation in five years aside from the occasional "Pass the gravy" at Thanksgiving. She gives me directions to her house. And then we drive in silence. Miley seems really nervous suddenly. She fumbles with her hands and licks her lips.

"Hey uh Lily?"

"Yes?" I look at her from the corner of my eye as we turn a corner.

"This is going to sound really weird… but umm… are you…?" She stops and shakes her head. We stop at a red light.

"Spit it out Stewart!"

"Are you gay?"

Whoa, what a curve ball! "Where did this come from?" I had to ask.

"Some kids at school… when they saw us hanging out at lunch they told me some stuff about you." She's looking at me now and suddenly I'm really pissed off.

"Who told you what?"

"You're mad." She sighs. "I can't believe this, I'm sorry. Here you are being so nice and I'm acting so stupid."

"Would you care?" I say as the light changes green and I push hard on the accelerator.

"If you're gay? No, not at all. Remember? I'm from LA, big city girl." She laughs. And then I laugh as Ernie pulls us up the hill, without moaning or whining.

…

**Author's Note: **I know one of you guys asked about where their living, right? Well I answered that. Miley is from LA and she moves to Tennessee which is where Lily and Oliver live. I'm not sure I understood your question, if your still a little fuzzy let me know, it's not a problem. Although, most of the story I can't tell. Shhh, it's a secret. What I can say is watch out for clues. Both girls have some skeletons in their closets. Leave your thoughts.


	5. Imaginary Strangers

Her house is small. It sits off the side on a curb next to a cluster of trees. It's a tall house, not very wide with dark red brick. I pull up into the driveway and shut Ernie off. She smiles at me.

"Thanks for the ride."

"No biggie."

"See you tomorrow…"

I watch her unbuckle and step out of the car. I notice her dad standing out by the garage with his hands on his hips. The guy is tall with a sunburned face that sags a little at the sides. He looks a little worn out. I try smiling at him. He nods and wraps an arm around Miley as they walk inside together.

For a spilt second, and I mean it really, I'm jealous. My dad never held me like that. I put Ernie in reverse and drive off. How the hell do I get out of this neighborhood? The street signs are like another language.

…..

"You're late."

"Love you too mom." I laugh throwing my school bag down and closing the door. She sighs and looks back down at her laptop. "Where's dad?"

"He's out." She says not looking up and typing out something from the large book sitting next to her.

"Oh… okay umm I'm just goin' go upstairs." I say pointing to the staircase.

"Sure, fine." Her eyes don't leave the computer screen.

Love you too mom.

…..

"I hate her."

"Lily, come on she's your mom."

I roll my eyes and turn over in bed as Oliver insists on taking her side. I pull the phone back from my ear to scratch it then place it back. "… and in any case can you blame her?" Is what I catch Oliver saying once the phone is snuggly fit on my ear.

"What's that supposed to mean?" I bite angrily. "Do you think I'm being too difficult?"

"No." I can tell Oliver is rubbing his eyes, annoyed, by the way he sighs on the other end. "It's just you all have gone through a lot… well… I mean…"

"Just drop it." I tell him sadly.

My mom and I use to get along. She was the best girlfriend I never knew nor had growing up. We went to movies, shopped, and laughed about how we were probably friends in another life.

I told her everything and she would listen. With her by my side I never needed any of the other girls at school to befriend. We knew each other inside and out. My dad and I have always been distant but before, before the madness he was okay. Not really talkative but still _there_.

I don't see him too much.

I don't talk to my mom.

"Lily? Lily are you even listening?"

"Not really." I admit softly.

"Got lost again, right? The mind is a wondrous tool, no?" Oliver insightfully informs me. What bullshit.

"You've been reading your mom's psychology books again haven't you?" I laugh trying to lighten the mood.

There's a brief pause. "Yes."

…..

"Who was on the phone?" My mom asks me as we sit at dinner. My dad is poking at his chicken.

"Oliver."

"Such a good boy." My mom sighs happily. "It's a shame you two never worked out."

"Yeah that and the fact I'm kind of into girls." I spit nastily. My mother cringes and looks down at her plate.

"I wish you wouldn't discuss that."

My parents think this lesbian thing is just a phase. I've gone through many phases. There was that purple hair dye phase, oh and the gothic novel period, and many others to add onto the list that is my high/junior high school life.

Its quiet the grandfather clock in the hall chimes. (7:00 p.m.)

I think every family has that one person who brings them together. The one person who actually cares for the whole family and loves everyone equally. And without that person, the family just burns out, dies a little. Without that person the family morphs into mine: Cold distant strangers.

We weren't always strangers…

…..

_October 21, 2011- Journal Entry# 28_

"Maybe that's all family really is. A group of people who miss the same imaginary place." -Andrew Largeman, Garden State

_Well then, where is it? Where is my imaginary place? _

_Probably buried deep in the earth along with the rest of my parents hopes and dreams. I know I'm being a little melodramatic, but it doesn't mean I don't hurt any less. _

_I wish I didn't know what happened to our family. I wish I was in the dark, but I'm not. I know the problem. _

_(It can't be fixed.)_

_Ciao._

…..

I see Miley walking into school just as I turn the car engine off. It's really cold today. She's wearing jeans and a navy blue sweater that's a little too big for her. She's carrying the same library books as yesterday.

I get out quickly and jog to catch up. Are we friends now? I mean I drove her home and we sort of kind of bonded. She doesn't have a problem with my sexual orientation, but then again I never really told her.

I reach the library, a place I've been inside once in freshman year during the school tour. She's seated at a back table looking adorable with her little red book and eyes intently reading its content. I smile and walk over.

She doesn't see me.

I sit down quietly next to her.

Nothing. Her face is glued to the novel.

I gently place my hand on her upper arm.

"_Jesus_!" She cries jumping up with her eyes bugging out and face twisted up in a painful expression.

"Whoa!" I say holding up my hands. "I'm sorry!"

"_Shhh_!" The old decaying librarian warns pressing a finger to her crusting lips.

Miley collects herself and settles back into her seat. "Sorry… I'm… I'm easily…"

"Frightened?" I laugh

"Yes." She says brushing a strand of her hair from her face and marking her place then gently placing the book down, not making a sound.

"So… you and libraries?" I ask picking at the edge of the table where the brow paint is beginning to peel.

"I like reading." She says bashfully.

"Cool… like what?" I look at her. Miley has the most amazing eyes, I know corny as hell but it's true. The only problem, their very shielded. Maybe I'm too use to Oliver with his easy brown eyes that read like an open book. But her eyes are slammed shut reading, CLOSED in big black letters. I want to read her (no sexual pun included).

She seems to be collecting her thoughts because she folds her thin long fingers and clears her throat. "Anything, everything," She replies, "But currently I'm reading a lot of Agatha Christie."

"Neat, I only read one of her novels, And Then There Were None."

Miley nods. "It's a classic… what about you? Hobbies?"

"I play the drums. Oliver and I are in a band with Craig Manning."

Miley giggles. "Isn't that the boy who tried to lick his elbow for three dollars?"

I blush but nod. "Yeah… but he's totally awesome on the guitar so I gotta respect him."

Miley crosses her legs licks her lips. I look at the selves and selves of books. I have no idea what to say.

"Do you like it here?" I say after a moment. I know she must have gotten this question a million times before, but I've got nothing.

She shrugs. "It's nice… quiet. Just different from my old school."

"Do you miss your friends?"

She seems to struggle with this question. "I… I _had_ friends, but we grew apart… after… after a while."

"Oh and the tattoo?" I smirk teasing her.

Miley blushes a deep shade of red and puts her hand on the wrist where the black star is hidden. "You saw?"

"Sure did, now spill."

Miley gives me a small hint of a smile. "It was on my thirteenth birthday. At the time my brother was eighteen and we went together. I just… I just wanted to do something reckless. You know?"

I nod. "I understand completely." Reckless, wild, to be free from the universe's chains! My smile grows. Miley smiles back.

"You're a cool girl, Lily."

It's the first time she's said my name. I like the way it sounds on her lips, different from the way my mom says it, or Oliver says it. She doesn't sound angry or annoyed just happy, happy to be with me.

…

**Author's Note: **

_**Zovid: **_Hopefully I can add a little sugar to your tea cup. I'm glad to see your taking a chance on this story. Also, have you received any of my e-mails? It's basically me groveling and begging your forgiveness for kind of disappearing on you.

_**play hurt: **_The Great Gatsby was an incredible book, I'm glad I could offer you my services. If you ever need another book to read come and talk to me. I was hoping someone would like Lily on the drums, I thought it fit her. Also, I love hearing everyone's rambles/thoughts/ and or any random fact so go crazy in your reviews!

I would like to thank everyone for their positive support it really means the world to me. Leave your thoughts.


	6. Take As Is

It's a little funny looking back on it now, but then again isn't it always? I sink into my bed.

I like having the window open, even now in the winter. My bed sits right under it and I love having that harsh wind hit my face as I snuggle into my warm sheets.

I turn on my side.

Why is it so funny?

I turn on my other side.

Dating boys was a complete joke. At first it frightened the hell out of me when I realize I hated kissing boys (yawn, boring, blah.) I thought maybe I was doing something wrong.

Oliver supported me through this. We never really dated just… fooled around a little. It was nice, good… but not great.

Oliver was patient and kind with me. He kept reassuring me that whatever happened (bi, straight, gay) he'd be there, which makes him a real winner in my book. Like I've said, Oliver is that traditional "good guy." It's a little weird, how we're even friends. Why he puts up with me, I'll never know. I like to think I add spice to his life. I give the punch. But honestly, I don't know. I'm not a good person.

He was my first in many ways then one. And for that, Oliver Oken will always have a piece of me, one that no one else can touch, see, or feel.

But girls… girls are different. It's during those awkward years of youth that we really notice it. Where boys are rough, proud, and hard… girls are soft, warm, and good. I just liked looking at girls that was the first sign. Curves are what, and still do, throw me off course. I love them.

I love watching them walk, giggle, and put make-up on in the mornings in front of the bathroom mirror. The patience it takes too craftily draw in the eyeliner, or mascara, or lipstick blows my mind. I have no patience, no skill in that department.

My mom tired teaching me once. But I touch my face too much to wear a lot of make-up. I have the essentials, blush, foundation, and powder, no more no less and I'm content.

There were other things too. But I never really thought I was a "lesbian" until Lauren. She was drop dead, no doubt about it, gorgeous.

She made your mouth water. Your stomach flip and flop in twenty different directions at once and your eyes and core burn in lust.

And she looked at me, _me_!

I told her shit I never mentioned to Oliver. I gave her my whole heart. But we were too… alike. Both restless about where we lived, we wanted bigger and better things. She wanted to act and I just wanted to get the fuck out of my house.

I think of three things when it comes to her: Smoke, Hair, and Sex.

She was the one who gave me my first cigarette. I see flashes sometimes, distant memories of us lying in her bed taking a drag. I see her hair, this wild jungle of dark red. I liked gripping a large sum of it in-between my fingers and twirling it around. Lauren, in the end, was too much for me.

We took and took from each other. We ate and sucked each other dry. And at the finish line we were worn out, crabby and we bitched to each other constantly.

Lauren: "You are _nothing _to me! You were a waste of my time!"

Me: "I hate you! I hate what you did to me!"

Lauren: "I didn't do anything that you didn't bring onto yourself!"

Me: "Get out!"

I'm not sure how we started fighting. It was senior year for her at the time, I was still a junior, but we were at that period in life were grades and scores on stupid tests really mattered. We were tired. I was bitter and she was distant. And then, one day I just stopped. I shut down and she couldn't help re-start me like I wanted her too.

And then she left, she graduated, packed up and said so long. It didn't come as a shock. She always said she wasn't sticking around. Lauren was accepted into some Art school in New York, she wanted to act, she wanted to live and be noticed.

Today, I saw her name in the newspaper in that tiny section right under the day's horoscopes.

"**LARUEN RENDALS! **_Rising star in the local arts program in NY! She will be performing in the hit musical __My Fair Lady_"

It went on about how she wooed her teachers at that acting school. How she's in the top of her class and will most likely be really, really famous one day.

I guess I'm happy for her. I should be I mean I stayed up with her all those nights, helping her practice her lines for drama. And it's not like I still love her. I suppose I'm still attracted to her, I lust but not love.

I probably never loved her.

No, I don't think so.

I roll onto my back now and stare at the ceiling… I think I like someone else now.

…..

_October 25, 2011- Journal Entry# 33_

I'd like to run away   
From you,  
But if you didn't come  
And find me ...  
I would die.  
-by Shirley Bassey

_Well then I'm dead. I'm buried deep, deep in the earth. _

_I wish she would pick up a shovel. _

_(Mr. Gunter, I'm sorry my entries have been so short but… I can't elaborate this one. Take as is, please.) _

_Ciao._

…..

Here's what I love about her being here: I have a clean slate. She doesn't know about my past relationships (or better yet realtionshits.) She isn't even sure if I dig girls but it doesn't matter to her. Miley is so… open and understanding, which is good and bad.

Pros- I gain a new friend

Cons- I stare at her and well… I think I really like her.

…..

It's lunch time. I'm trying to close the cap on my water bottle while Sarah and Oliver are kissing. Miley pokes at her lunch tray before asking, "What is this… exactly?"

I laugh. "You really need to start bringing your lunch."

She nods and pushes the tray away. Miley looks over at Sarah and Oliver, "Umm could you… not do that here?"

The two pull apart, embarrassed. Sarah smoothes out her hair and excuses herself to the "little girl's room" Oliver yawns and scratches his neck before looking at Miley, "I'm sorry if we made you feel uncomfortable." He apologizes.

I roll my eyes. "There you go, being all nice again. I want to know Oliver, what does it feel like to be the evolved man?" I pretend to put a microphone in his face.

He chuckles. "There are other good guys out there Lily."

I snort. "Who? Horny Harold Patterson? Perverted Peter Danstone? Come on Oliver, boys, for me, are totally over rated."

I fold my hands and wait for a reply instead Oliver just shrugs and watches for Sarah. Miley stares at her feet. I try to catch her eye and give her a friendly smile. She looks at me with a pale face. I frown.

"You sick or something?"

"No." She says weakly.

"Was it Oliver and Sarah's kissing? I know it can be a little nauseating but it wears off." I snicker, giving Oliver a smile.

Miley shakes her head. "I said I was fine."

"Okay." I say slowly giving her one of my serious faces.

Miley fidgets with her napkin and then stands, grabs her tray and quickly murmurs something about the library and runs off.

"She's so weird." I sigh turning back to Oliver.

"I think she's just… well… different?" He tries. Sarah sits down and kisses his cheek.

"What'd I miss?" She asks rolling her sleeves down.

"Miley being whack-o." I sigh.

"She's just shy." Sarah smiles brightly. "Give it time."

Whatever, I'm getting to the bottom of it.

…

**Author's Note: **

_**Zovid: **_Come now, do you know me at all? Of course there will be more on Lily's family. It's Lily that's holding back, she's not ready to face up to the problem. She just dwells in it and constantly wonders and pokes at the idea.

_**Alihope: **_I was addicted to Garden State and Scrubs for a long time (and still am a little). I'm glad you like this, but keep sniffing around you'll more good ones.

_**Hpfreak2008: **_I love Lily on the show, and I'm a little peeved that the writers sort of brush her off. And yes, I'm really rocking the boat in a sense. But there are reasons as to why the characters act the way they do. Hopefully you'll stick around and find out. Loved the review.

_**Farah A: **_I don't know why but that smiley face thing really just cracked me up… a little random on my part to say but thanks.

Leave your thoughts…


	7. Directionless is Excepted

I hate being alone for too long. I need another body, another voice. I just need to know someone loves me. But it's hard, hard to find someone to love and love me back. I throw my cigarette bud on the ground and step on it.

I rub my hands together for warmth and look around. My deck, the one I'm standing on, over looks a small wooded area. The sun is setting and the house is empty.

Mom's out with "the doctor," the one she's cheating dad on. I've seen "the doctor" once. He was standing outside the hospital waiting for my mom. I nearly fell over when she kissed him.

It was like… like all that we went through had been thrown away. I got angry and that's when our relationship went straight to hell. I think she knows that I know. We share a calm smile with raging eyes whenever she goes out to meet this other man.

Dad's still at work probably won't be home till late. I don't care; he's never been good company.

I think I'll get another cigarette.

My mom has a stash hidden deep in her jewelry box. She never smokes them. But when she's out at parties or with friends she likes to have a pack in her purse, just to give her that edge.

Smoking is a terrible habit.

But I can't stop.

It's not about getting high, getting this rush. I already have a rush, it's just the way my mind works. I need a low, something that will slow the whole world down. I light another one and breathe out shakily.

This is bad.

I throw the cancer stick down and run to the phone.

Seven digits and two rings later there is a, "Hello?"

"Oliver!"

…...

We are sitting on the couch. A car commercial is playing with flashing light and color along with that old techno music. Oliver flips the channel and yawns. I scratch my ear. It's Thursday evening.

His parents are in the kitchen laughing and cooking what I'm sure will be a delicious dinner. There's light jazz music pouring from the small stereo. I smile and close my eyes. I feel so good here. The warmth of a loving family is all I need to calm my nerves.

Oliver's mom, Algeria, comes jogging in and tosses the newspaper on the living room coffee table in front of us.

She's a husky woman with the fullest laugh and works as a child physiologist. Oliver's father, the starving artist, as I like to call him, Raffaele appears in front of us wiping his hands off on a dish rag.

"Dinner is ready, bambini." He says in a thick Italian accent.

"Ringrazia il babbo." Oliver smiles as we get up and walk to the kitchen. You'd think after all the time in their house I would pick up on a few Italian terms, but being me, I didn't.

The Okens has always treated me with respect. They are nonjudgmental and always forgiving, this is the family I have always longed for. The family I lost long ago.

"Lillian! My goodness do you ever eat?" Mrs. Oken asks pilling her famous pasta onto my plate.

Raffaele Oken smiles at me and strokes his thick black beard before digging into the dinner. I take a seat next to Oliver and we eat dinner, almost like a normal family. Sometimes I play a game where I' am apart of the Oken clan. But then they always ask,

"Where are your parents tonight?"

And the game is broken.

I swallow my water and look to Algeria. "Their both working tonight." I tell her, smiling sadly.

"Tisk, tisk. You're momma should come over some time, eh? And your papa? We'll have a good neighborly dinner together." Algeria nods twisting the noodles around her fork skillfully and eating it.

"Maybe." I say.

…..

Miley is sitting at the library table. Today, I'm determined. She is reading as I approach, her head looks up as I sit in one of the chairs.

"Morning." I smile.

"Hello." She says curtly.

Okay, so this is shit. "I was wondering…" She looks up at me. "If… if you'd like to you know chill, hang out, whatever they called it in Los Angeles."

I get a ghostly hint of a smile. "I don't know…"

"I'm not a scary person! Look, Oliver's coming and he'll probably bring Sarah… and then Sarah will probably bring some of her stupid hippie friends with her… so you won't have to just sit with me!" I'm grinning and nodding at her.

"A party?" Her facial features close up and her unreadable eyes suddenly seem very dark. Is she completely anti-social?

"Do you like parties?"

"No." She replies quickly. "I don't… I ha-have to go." And then she's gone, grabbing her books and bag and running away.

I' am scary! Oh Jesus Christ! She hates me! Slamming my head onto the table I sigh and decide to stop trying so damn hard.

…..

"I don't know Lily, she's really strange. Like yesterday, I was running to catch up to her and ask about the Physics homework. All I did was touch her shoulder and she totally freaked out on me!" Oliver says as we sit down.

I scratch my head. "Maybe she just doesn't like us… me."

Oliver offers a warm smile. "She'd be crazy not to like you."

"I don't even know why I'm trying to get her to like me… I'm just trouble. She deserves a good friend… someone without so much emotional baggage." I say more to myself then Oliver.

He puts an arm around me. "You're amazing Lily, don't ever sell yourself short. I bet Miley is just having trouble adjusting to her new life. It's hard. I'm probably just over reacting about the hallway thing."

He smiles and kisses my cheek. "Stay strong weary solider!" He announces in a strong manly voice.

"You've been reading your dad's poetry books haven't you?" I laugh.

"Possible…" Oliver blushes.

"You're so gay."

…..

"Lily?"

I turn my head.

I'm lying down on a hard wooden bench. I was staring at the clouds my hands behind my head and my legs crossed comfortably.

The park is magic in early November.

"Yeah?" I say to Miley who is hovering nervously above me. Her hair hangs down as she leans in to my level.

"I want to apologize…" She sighs.

"Oh! It's too late to apologize!" I sing, laughing a little. Miley gives me a tiny smile.

"You have a good voice… Anyway my actions from before were a little uncalled for." She swallows hard. "You don't even know me and you're just trying to be nice…"

"I want to know you." I tell her sitting up. I motion for her to sit next to me. She does and my stomach flips with joy. "… And I'm not nice."

"Dose your offer still stand, for hanging out?" She wonders not meeting my intense gaze.

"For you? Always." I try my hand at being charming. She laughs and I'm struck with how much it sounds like a little bell and how perfect it is.

…..

_November 3, 2011- Journal Entry# 35_

"Each friend represents a world in us, a world possibly not born until they arrive, and it is only by this meeting that a new world is born." -Anaïs Nin

_I think it's safe to say that a new world for me is coming. There's something about the way I feel around this new friend. I feel… like a better person like I can become anything and everything. And I want to tell this new friend. I want them to know my all my flaws so that when I'm with them and feeling this remarkable feeling- it will not be fake._

_I will answer you're question now, the one printed nicely on the chalkboard. My answer is simple. _

_No. And no you get no explanation. _

…

**Author's Note: **(yawn) I'm very tired. And I (might have) skipped my homework to write. So hopefully I'll give you guys personal reviews next time, today I'm worn out. Leave your thoughts, because I love your words of wisdom and direction.


	8. Self Control

Ever have one of those conversations that bring up a heap of memories that you never wanted to remember and or think about ever, ever again?

I feel

like

falling

down.

The gilded cage is back and trapping me. Making me watch old memories play out like old black and white movies. I have one day in particular. A day that is engraved.

_He is running. His arms out and waving with the seagulls. We are at the beach. He calls my name. _

"_Lily! Lily! I'm a seagull! I'm a bird!" _

"_If you are a bird, then I' am a bird!" _

_The sand is cold under my feet and between my toes. The sun is dying. He wraps his arms around my waist. _

"_I love you, Lily." _

"_I-"_

I wake up in a pool of cold sweat. The clock is burning a hole into my brain- 3:45 a.m. I get up shaking.

I have to see it. I have to feel it.

I walk down the hall. Turn the corner. A door at the end of the long hall stands closed, cold and forgotten. Not breathing I close my clammy palm around the doorknob and twist it slowly.

_Errrrrrch_- door language for: "Leave it be! Leave it alone!"

Against my better judgment I open the door, in a swift swing. My eyes are stinging. Is this crying? I run a hand over my face. Nope, no tears. I haven't cried… I haven't cried not since-

There is a tightening feeling grabbing my insides like large sharp claws. My black hole that place in my chest is screaming: "NO! NO! Don't let the emotion hurt us!"

But tonight I want it. I want to fucking _feel_ the presences.

The room is dark. I do not turn on a lamp. I sit on the very edge of the bed, it squeaks, it's so stiff. No one has slept in it in ages, centuries it feels like. I sigh; my breath comes out wavered and forced. It's such a chore to breathe.

The room is almost barren. They took away his things. They boxed it all up. I screamed, I remember, I told them not to touch it. But they took it, took everything.

They wanted to erase him all together. I pleaded! I begged! "Let me keep a piece of him! Let me have this one thing!"

No. All was tossed. All was gone, away along with my heart. I have no heart. I have no feeling. I touch the bare mattress- no sheets for warmth, don't need any. The moon hangs on its side and shines dimly through the window. I reach out and let my hand play in the single ray of moonlight.

Are you here?

……

"So what time should I come over?"

"Whenever." I sigh into the phone as I hear Oliver on the other line put on his shoes.

"I'll be over later; I've got to pick Sarah up first. Hey, is Miley coming?"

"I hope so."

…..

My parents are already gone when, low and behold, Miley is standing at my door. I gave her directions to my place yesterday at the park. She looks out of her element.

"Hi." It's a short and shy.

"Hey, come on in." I wave her inside and shut the door.

I don't know why, but with her in my house things seem… warmer… brighter…

"You're house is very…" She trails off looking around at the twisting stairs and the tall chandelier. "Big." She says after a moment blushing.

"Thanks."

She's wearing her hair up. Her dress is red corduroy and runs right to her knees showing the slightest bit of her nice legs. Miley's face is flushed and her lips are bright red from biting them. She's wearing a little more make-up then usual. It makes my insides warm, it's selfish but I'd like to think she dressed up to impress me. Stupid, I know. Her clothes are very modest and practical; too bad she's wearing long sleeves I want to see that tattoo.

"Would you like to sit? Oliver and everyone should be here soon." I guide her to the living room. She quickly walks to the Edgar Degas painting in the corner of the ballerinas stretching backstage.

"I _love_ Degas!" She says gushing over the painting. She holds her hand as if to brush the surface with her fingertips, but she resists.

"You can touch it." I smirk. "It's not like it's the original."

She turns back to me and gives a little smile. "I know… I just didn't want to be rude."

"Well stop that. And yeah I like Degas too; it was given to me by…" I stop. She's waiting for me to finish, but I can't.

The door bell rings. Thank-you Jesus! "I'll get it!" I shout running off leaving Miley standing by herself.

I swing the door open roughly and see Oliver and Sarah and behind them half of the school. I groan, damn you Sarah! Someone's got to learn how to quiet about parties.

"Sorry." She mutters as I'm trampled by all the jackasses I spend five days a week eight hours a day with.

"You're not sorry." I snap walking off.

I find Miley horror stricken in the corner. If she wasn't here I'd probably run off to find Craig, who usually brings the beer, but with her here I want everyone to leave. I don't feel like getting pissed drunk and having sex with half the cheerleading squad.

I want to… be with Miley and talk about Degas. What the hell is going on with me?

"Hey! Hey! It's Li-ly!" Jimmy, the quarterback, cheers putting an arm around me, he reeks of booze. "This party is like… likes so totally fucking awesome! … Hey, hey aren't you like a," He snorts here, "like a lezbo or somethin'?"

"Get off of me!" I bark shoving the bastard aside. He stumbles and laughs.

"When you find Mary, tell me okay?" He chuckles in a slurred voice.

Oh Christ, not Mary.

"Howdy everybody!"

Shit.

I smell it, the strong odor of overly priced perfume stinging my nostrils. I'd know that voice anyway. I turn around and see her.

"Oh look its Mary Magdalene." I sneer angrily as she strides sexily over to me. Mary has always been hot. Long white blonde hair and pale gray eyes. She has the best body, tall and curvy. Her and I… well we go back a little too. After Lauren Mary was my rebound girl. We had sex once (or rather I fucked her, if you want to be technical about it. There's no way I'd let that slut touch me) it was quick and hard, completely meaningless backed up against a bathroom wall.

She's very free about her dating life/sex life. It's funny how they say a smaller town is wholesome and good. But really, it's just like the city only in the morning instead of forgetting that one night stand and loosing yourself in a crowd, everyone knows what happened.

"Now, now Lillian no need for names." She giggles lazily wrapping an arm around me, which I shove off quickly.

"I'm out of here." I storm off to find Oliver.

I find him sitting with Sarah talking quietly with each other. Thankfully, Miley is with them not trapped in the main party room.

"You!" I yell pointing at them. "Why did you tell all your _stupid_ friends about my 'small gathering?'"

Sarah cringes. "I'm really sorry Lily, it was all Brittany's fault, you know how she gets."

"I'll kill her!"

"Chill out Lily." Oliver soothes me calmly taking my hand and making me sit on the couch. I see Miley sitting straight up in the armchair.

"I'm sorry Miley, it was just supposed to be a few people." I say sadly.

She shakes her head. "Not your fault… but I think I'd better go." She stands and I jump up.

"No! Please stay. I'll find a quiet room to sit in… please?"

Miley chews on the inside of her cheek and then meets my eye for a second before looking back down. "… Alright."

…

**Author's Note: **So? Let's hear it? Leave your thoughts.

_**Kurrent: **_It is always a pleasure as a writer to see reviews like yours. I'm glad to see I've opened you up to the darker stories. And I'm so ecstatic to be in the writer's club! Happy to be here! Also I tend to empathize for fictional characters too. It's a little humorous because I tend to care more deeply and connect with them more then real people. All questions will hopefully be answered in the next chapter but only if I can get my act together. Thank- you very much for your words. I hope to hear more (if that's not too greedy to say.)


	9. Houston, We Have A Problem

Somewhere a kid finds and turns on the stereo, a bad rap song starts up and everyone begins dancing. I see Mary over in the corner trying to seduce Jimmy. I turn my head to make sure Miley hasn't been lost in the crowd.

She is silently following me, head down and trying to avoid any contact, and or glances of other individuals. I stop, and boldly take her hand in mine. I pull her through the mess of nameless faces. She doesn't turn me away. Score!

I open the door to our small reading room. As I close the door Miley begins scanning the shelves. "You have an amazing collection." She admires.

"Thanks… but most of them aren't mine." I add quickly, I was never the reader.

She beams at me anyway and takes a seat. "This is much better… nice and quiet."

"I thought you would like it." I say sitting down on the couch with her. "So tell me Miley, who are you?" I smirk while folding my leg underneath me.

She blushes under my gaze and stares at her clasped hands. "I don't understand why you find me so intriguing… there's really nothing to me."

"Of course there is. But let's start with something simple, what's your favorite color?"

Miley pulls her head up and finally meets my eye. Her face is a perfect oval shape. Her lips stand out, a very natural pink. My gaze rolls down her neck to her chest, and then down her arms. I want her full image burned into my memory.

"I like all colors… personally I find that questions extremely difficult. All colors have meaning, a certain warmth to them." She explains moving her hands in small gestures. I take note of her finely clear painted nails.

"See, that's why I'm intrigued." I say sincerely tilting my head to the side.

"Well what about you Lily, who are you?"

Nothing, I' am nothing. "I'm just Lily." I shrug.

"I think there's more." She replies slyly. Miley gets comfortable on the couch. She adjusts her position to be more laid back into the couch. She swings her foot around and tucks it under herself. I quickly glance down at her feet. She's wearing black slip on shoes. I have never seen smaller feet then hers.

"Wow." I say pointing to her shoe. "Your feet… their so tiny." I giggle.

Miley nods. "Yeah, but it came in handy… I well I did ballet."

"Really?"

"Yes."

"Now that's something, tell me more." I urge her. Scooting a little closer. This is what I wanted from her.

"I started when I was four…" Miley begins looking off, remembering. "I got into this really good ballet school, actually. The City Ballet of Los Angeles, it was called." She laughs. "I really loved it."

"What happened?"

The door swings open. Mary stumbles in. "Oh." She snorts giggling holding a beer can in one hand and the door knob in another, "Didn't mean to interrupt." She smiles and slides over to me. She sways her hips and suddenly I wonder how I ever found her attractive. It's not even a contest with Miley in view.

Mary sits in my lap and wraps her arms around my neck. "You're such a party pooper Lily Wily." She laughs throwing her head back.

I push her away scolding. "Damn it Mary! Get out of here!"

"I see I see…" She says, wobbling slightly. "You'll screw around with the new girl for a bit… but remember, Lily I'm always here!" She shrills, smiling and watching Miley. I don't like the way she is sizing Miley up, I don't like her eyes on Miley at all.

"Just leave Mary." I say sharply gritting down making my jaw tight and body tense. I don't want to cause a bigger scene then there already is. Mary shrugs and slowly shuffles out of the room. She has a knack for running moments.

The door closes and an uncomfortable silence hangs over me and Miley. She's looking at me differently now. Shit, shit, this is why I didn't want her to know, because of that look, that expression.

"You two… you two dated?" She asks.

"We," I sigh angrily I really don't want to explain this right now, "We had sex once, we never dated."

Miley just sits still. "You… you had _sex_ with her?"

I rub my forehead, aggravated. "Mary was there when I broke up with a long term girlfriend of mine… her name was Lauren."

Quick as lightening I hear Lauren laughing, I see flashes of her long red hair, and I smell her jasmine perfume.

"So… you are gay then?" Miley questions.

"Yes, is that a problem?" I shoot back.

"No! No not at all." Miley assures me, rather quickly. She's not cool with this.

"I really don't want to talk about me." I sigh hanging my head. "It's just… bad."

"It can't all be bad." Miley says softly. I search her eyes for some kind of answer or comfort but her shield is up and in full force.

"But it is… you know I'm not even sure why I'm trying to befriend you. I really don't want you to be apart of all that." I say gesturing to the door and what lies behind it. "You know what? I wanted to reinvent myself, is that stupid?"

"No." Miley whispers picking at her nail. "It's really not."

I smile at her but she just frowns. I stand up. "I need a drink, would you like something?"

"No thanks."

I watch her carefully as I walk out of the room and into the madness.

"Lily!"

It's Oliver, he jogs up beside me.

"Hi." I sigh.

"What's the matter my fine friend?" He smiles putting an arm around me.

"People." I mutter.

"They are pretty annoying, but you know what? They can surprise you sometimes." He says insightfully. "How's Miley?"

"I couldn't really say." I snap. "One minute we're totally connecting and the next she's just this big wall… and tell Mary to stay the fuck away from me, okay?" I warn.

Oliver nods. "I think she's passed out in the living room anyway." Oliver chuckles. I grab a plastic red cup and drink it. I'm not sure what's in it but it tastes like warm beer. It feels good on my dry throat but the after taste is murder.

I get back to the small library room and find Miley sitting Indian style on the couch looking at a photo album.

"What are you doing?!" I shout.

Miley jumps pushing the book back. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry it was just lying over there and there was a page bookmarked and I was curious." Her eyes are scared, the first real emotion I've seen.

I rush over and stare down at the page, I already what it is. I sit on the edge of the couch and frown. It's me… it's me and him. We have our arms wrapped around each other smiling. I thought it had been a good day for us, for him. But I guess looking back on it now he looks a little pale, and the smile does not quite reach his eyes.

There are other pictures on the pages. There we are as little kids at the beach, the day we promised to fly away together as seagulls. The day I dream of. Miley is watching me as I sadly replay the memories in my head.

"Who is he?" She points to his picture.

"That's… that's my brother." I whisper huskily. "My twin brother." I slam the book shut roughly. "You shouldn't snoop around in other people's things." I growl getting up and throwing the stupid album back on the end table where she got it.

"Lily…" She says my name slowly. "Where…. Where is your brother?"

"Shut-up, okay? I don't want to talk about Nate!"

_Fuck_. Oh fuck. I sit down completely drained and defeated and I only said his fucking name. I haven't spoken his name… not since…

_I open the bathroom door slowly. I need to shower and then hit the books, big test tomorrow. I yawn and shuffle across the tile floor. _

"_Nate?" _

_He's in the bath tub. _

_Sleeping? Why is he sleeping in the bath tub? _

"_Nate!" A little louder this time. _

_I bend down. I shake his shoulder. I smile and laugh. "Okay funny boy come on, Nate get up!" _

_Nothing. I touch his cheek- ice cold._

"_NATE! NATE!"_

I shiver and turn to Miley. She is clearly waiting for me to pour my heart out, too bad, not happening. I get up. "I've got to… I've got to be somewhere else right now." I stumble out of the room.

I race passed the party animals and out to the back deck, the one that over looks the woods. I fumble through my pockets until I find it. Smiling like a greedy kitten I light it up and breathe it all in. I let the smoke sink inside. Just forget, I just want to forget. I let it all out a moment later.

"Does anyone else know you smoke?"

"_Jesus_!" I jump up and turn around to see Miley leaning against the doorframe.

"You know smoking can kill you." She says.

"No, really? Gee and here I was thinking you can take a pill for cancer." I snap back sarcastically taking another drag.

She's being different now, a little braver; she walks over and stares at me hard. "Will you tell me?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because it's over, why dwell in the past?" I say blowing out a long stream of smoke.

Miley wraps her arms around herself. "Have you ever, mourned?"

I snort and bring the cigarette to my lips again. "What are you, a fucking therapist?" My words are so cold. I want to reach out and tell her, I want to explain that I'm not really this bitter! I can be good, please Miley give me a chance, I'm just so scared.

She keeps staring. "How did he die?"

My throat closes up my heart lodges and gets stuck in it. I lean up against the side of the house. She patiently waits.

"I can't… don't make me." I whimper quietly. I can hear the distant vibrations of the loud music coming from the house.

"Then stop smoking." She demands.

I look up at her angrily. "Who are you to judge me? Telling me what I can and can not do?"

Miley just shrugs. And then she takes the cigarette from me and brings it to her pretty pink mouth. But just as she is about to slip it between her lips I leap out and grab it from her and stomp it out on the ground.

"Don't." I say loudly.

It looked ugly in her small hands. It looked disgusting. I can't imagine watching her destroy her body like that.

"Now why would you do that?" Miley wonders.

"Because it's you. Because it's different."

"So tell me…" Miley asks putting a hand on my hand. "What happened?"

"He… Nate… killed himself."

…

**Author's Note: **The truth is, semi, revealed! Leave your thoughts.

_**Zovid: **_I have always seen Lily as a rebel/punk. Disney channel has ruined her in my view, in the beginning episodes she is pretty blunt with her words and has a very "real" personality… but now she's just Miley's sidekick, it's sad. (Shivers) I would hate to read a story with Lily acting "preppy." Also, about the Mary character, I had a hard time coming up with a name for her. But Mary just… worked in a strange ironic way. It gave me a chuckle.

_**Kurrent: **_I couldn't say anything before because I did not want to ruin the surprise, but you got me! It's always fun and hard to have very intelligent readers who pick up quickly on what is happening. Anyway good job with the problem solving, well shucks I guess I wasn't very discrete.


	10. Building Blocks

Nate was always a little more sensitive, that's what they told us. He was emotional, that was their excuse. He use to get so run down, the bad spells I called them. He would stay locked up in his room for hours.

But then he would be fine! Give it a day! And there he would be sitting and laughing at the kitchen table with dad as they played scrabble. Or, singing in the kitchen as he made dinner with mom. But I loved him best when he was sitting right next to me, just talking, just lying out in the grass.

I' am the black sheep.

Nate was the good son.

You're not allowed to have a favorite, that's what the Bible says, right? But they did, my parents loved him, everyone loved him. It was impossible not to smile and feel so carefree in his presences. Nate brought out the best in everyone he met.

He was perfect.

And he killed himself.

I remember the first time he tired to do it. It was two week before he succeeded in actually killing himself. On the first try he took he's angry and sadness out on his writs. It was the most horrific site. I was the one who stopped him.

I found him sitting alone in the corner. Tears streaming down his face, I tackled the poor excuse of my perfect brother. I can remember looking down at my hands and seeing his blood smeared over them. It smelt like metal. I remember, after Nate was rushed to the emergency room, just putting my head in my hands- and screaming.

No one was sure how or why Nate went mad. My parents took him to a "special" doctor. She reluctantly told us that Nate was bipolar. It made sense; I guess the great highs the destroying lows.

Nate was put on all these pills, medications, and meetings with groups of other people like him. Over those two weeks before he swallowed too many pills and fell asleep, never to wake again, Nate was another person.

He was not my brother. He was not the person I loved and held more dearly then anyone else.

It happened fast. From the minute I found him dead in the bathroom tub to next when I was calming explaining to the doctors how I found him. I don't remember anything about the hospital.

My parents drove me home. My mom's face was sunken in and my dad was just a blank slate. The last thing I can remember is walking to his room getting on the bed, but not moving any of the pillows or sheets and falling asleep.

…..

Miley is sitting on my bed. I'm lying down with a hand over my eyes, trying to control my breathing- in and out nice and steady.

"Who else knows?"

I pull my hand back and let my vision adjust to the dim lighting. "Everyone," I say, "well they know the vague details, like he committed suicide. Nothing else. I don't talk about it much. Nobody likes to, actually."

"What does Oliver know?" Miley asks feeling the fabric of my sheets.

"He knows everything, all the gory details. He's a great guy, helped me through a lot of shit. But this… with Nate, I never really… like cried." I close my eyes. I'm so tired. "What time is it?"

Miley cranes her neck to look at my clock on the nightstand. "It's around 10:00 p.m."

"Oh god." I groan turning over on the bed.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm just," I mutter into my pillow, "soar."

"Are you going to be okay when I leave?" She asks putting a gentle hand on my arm. It's the first time she's really touched me for longer then a minute. It feels really nice, kind of motherly and yet…

"I'm always fine." I say turning over smirking. She rolls her eyes.

"You are so very stubborn… reminds me of friends back home." She grins slightly.

I sit up a little. "That's right, you never told me about that ballet school. I'm interested in knowing the city Miley."

"She's not very interesting and besides we're talking about you." Miley frowns looking down at her feet.

"I hate talking about me."

"Well I hate talking about me too."

We lock eyes.

"Lily!"

The door bursts open and Oliver is staring at me with big eyes. "Downstairs! You need to come downstairs! I think someone just knocked over and broke your mom's vase!"

Shit.

_Lily, why are you neglecting your journal entries? This is an AP class, to need to be more concerned with your grades. Currently you have a 67 in my class the grading period is ending it would be wise to start caring._

_Mr. Gunter. _

…..

It's a little weird after you've opened up to someone new. Whenever I see her in the halls or class I feel… I feel naked, exposed and raw. We haven't spoken since the party three days ago. I'm getting a little over anxious. I want to have another moment alone with her. I finally got a quick taste of her world and I want more- so much more.

……

"Come on Craig let's practice that one more time." I demand getting settled on the stool behind my drums.

"Why? It's amazing!" He protests.

"Oliver, did I ask Craig if he _wanted_ to play it again?" I snap turning to Oliver as he tunes the base.

"Well… I uh… no?" He says scratching his head.

"Exactly! Now let's go!" I throw myself into the drum beat. Tension builds and releases before Oliver joins me with a few simple cords. Next Craig twiddles on the guitar before I start singing. (_"Ooh, baby! You've got me all, all, tied up! Love's got you doin' wild dances around me!"_)

I stop singing and Craig complements the song with a hard solo. He bops his head, black hair flying out in different directions. Oliver sways in the back his head down as he keeps up the tempo. Feeling the sweat burn on my forehead I smile and start a heavy drum beat- _thud! Thud! Thudthudthud!_ Faster, faster, and then I scream into the microphone and my lyrics start over.

I open my eyes as the song starts to close. I see Miley standing in the doorway and my body jumps a little. I loose one of my drumsticks; it falls out of my hand screwing up the ending. Craig and Oliver stop.

Craig turns around and glares at me. "So much for that." He spits nastily.

"Fuck off Craig! I got distracted." I mutter

He looks over at Miley, a wolfish smile on his lips. "I can see why." He purrs.

The hold on my drumsticks tightens, my back straightens and my insides flare up. I really hate Craig sometimes. Oliver, quietly, begins packing up. I stand up and walk swiftly over to Miley as Craig corners her like his prey (chauvinistic pig!)

"So, you're the new girl, right?"

Miley timidly nods and finds my eye. Craig smiles. "Well I'm Cra-"

"She knows who are now beat it!" I say folding my arms over my chest.

He pouts, sticking out his bottom lip. "You're no fun Lily."

"Like I care."

…..

"You guys are _really _good."

We're standing in the foray. My hands deep in my pockets and Miley shifting her weight from one foot to the other. "Thanks."

"Your voice… it's so… captivating and husky." Miley says, her eyes glazing, her mind fading out.

I laugh, staring at my feet not hiding the deep blush creeping up my cheeks. "Complements get you nowhere Miss. Stewart," I grin. "But always appreciated."

"Anyway," Miley says with a shake of her head. "You left this in English class today." She pulls, out of her bag, my old red colored hat. She hands it over smiling shyly. "I just thought I'd return it."

"Yeah, I'm really scatter brained." I laugh taking it and quickly placing it over my messy hair. "How's it look?" I ask holding out my arms.

"Perfect." Miley giggles.

I shudder; her giggle will be the death of me.

…..

_November 12, 2011- Journal Entry# 40_

"At the touch of love everyone becomes a poet." –Plato

_I'm sorry I've been so flighty about my entries. Time seems to escape me these days. What is this? Oh, I have this amazing feeling both good and bad. I feel sick and well all at once. I want to be better around this person. I want to show them that I can be stable and loyal. _

_Balancing in-between remorse and the freedom to let someone in, I can't decide where to go. Because is destiny on my side this time? I can't loose this person. I can't loose them to myself…_

_Ciao. _

…

**Author's Note: **Leave your thoughts.


	11. Wide Open

_November 20, 2011- Journal# 45_

"Art is the objectification of feeling." -Herman Melville

_How does Melville do it? Really, explain him to me. Last weekend (because I have no life and a friend of mine told me to) I read __Bartleby, the Scrivener: a Story of Wall-Street__. It was unbelievable! (Unbelievable in that good way.) I was in awe of Herman. That lawyer guy, the narrator, made me mad but Bartleby was… right, perfect in all sense of the word. _

_Have you ever read a book where you hated the main character but loved the minor one? _

_Bartleby was frustrated about where he was, the rut was he was stuck in. He was at a dead end and I can relate, and that's the beauty of reading isn't it? Connecting to others, because it shows us, we're not all alone. Someone else is out there, reading this book and feeling the same way I do. _

_I don't know that person, and probably never will, but I know their soul. It's more of a presence, a set of mind. _

_How was that Mr. Gunter?_

_Ciao._

…..

I think it's possible to feel happy by knowing happiness is just around the corner. It works the same way a bad feeling would. I can always tell when something horrible is about to happen. There's always this icy chill that runs down my back and suddenly I'm a mess just at the mere thought that something bad _could_ happen.

So, now, I know something good is around the corner. I can tell by the way I don't have to make myself get up in the morning. I can tell by the way the air smells… clean, fresh. Happiness is due in my life. A good real laugh is needed and I'll be damned if some idiot tries to steal it from me. (You can't steal my joy.)

And where is this happiness radiating from?

Miley.

It's funny how she can make me feel without saying a word. She is patient and calm. Her manner is smooth and graceful. I don't think I've ever met or seen someone so posed. Her quiet demeanor sets my mind on fire. She makes me want to learn more, become something. I want to be intelligent for her; I want to show her I'm more then this slacker. I just hope she gives me the chance.

…..

"… And then the chicken said: Boo!"

The room is silent.

Oliver is the worst at telling jokes, seriously the boy is helpless. He hangs his head in embarrassment but Sarah quickly starts laughing and jabs me in the side to start giggling along with her.

"I thought it was cute." She says to Oliver kissing his cheek.

We're spread out on Oliver's living room floor studying for stupid mid-terms. I've got my literature book open to a random page and my history notes scattered aimlessly. Craig is in the kitchen practically having sex with his new girlfriend, Jodie? Joan? Oh who cares!

Sarah's dumb tree hugging beta member vegetarian friends are sitting around quizzing each other on math notes. Brittany squeals as Amber gets number 45 right and Macy congratulates them with a hug- ick. Really, why am I friends with these dweebs? Oh yeah- Oliver. Note to self: punch Oliver in the face.

Okay, okay, I shouldn't be so aggressive Sarah's great. She's just what Oliver needs, especially after our plane crash of a relationship. But then again we weren't really "boyfriend girlfriend" we just… well… we did everything like we use to- go out to eat, catch a movie, the only difference was the make-out sessions in Oliver's dad's car.

I was never a good girlfriend. We got together in sophomore year, the year after Nate died. I wanted a distraction from my life and Oliver was supposedly "totally in love with me" whatever. I was a jerk to Oliver, and I openly admit it now. I would get angry for no reason and scream at him. We fought and bickered. I was pissed and depressed over Nate. I tried to morph Oliver into what Nate was for me- that comfort that security blanket. And when Oliver didn't add up to that criteria I lashed out.

But the beginning, as any relationship, was good. The end was messy and the middle was hell. The miracle, I think, is that we're still friend. Especially after our first time together. In all honesty, I just didn't want to be a virgin anymore. I wanted to do it and get it over with. And, I thought, if there was anyone in the world I would want to give my last bit of innocence to, it would be Oliver.

We met up at my family's lake house one weekend. The cabin was nice and warm. I snuck a bottle of wine from my parent's small storage room. Oliver had one glass, I had two. I turned out the lights. We undressed, Oliver pulled down the covers letting me slide in first and he asked me (for the millionth time) if I really wanted this.

I answered with a hard kiss.

It wasn't bad, it didn't hurt. Most girls described their first time has a horrible and painfully experience, but mine was fine. It was more embarrassing and strange. After it was over Oliver held me and told me he would never forget this, he would always treasure it, even if we drifted apart.

A month or so after that we broke up, because I discovered something- I liked girls. Oliver and I switched back into friend mode very slowly. It was hard on both of us, but apparently we made it through because well just look at the boy!

Sarah is snuggled up close to him as he whispers something in her ear. They laugh and I smile. This is how it should be. Olive should always be happy, because he deserves nothing less.

The door bell rings. "I got it!" Macy says jumping up and running to the door.

I hear the sharp crack of Oliver's old wooden door being opened. The stomping of boots on the welcome mat and then a soft voice apologizing, "Sorry I'm late. I lost track of time at the library."

My chest tightens, in that nervous sort of way and quickly I sit up a little straighter and pull my books and papers together neatly.

"I hope no one minds but I invited Miley to the study session." Oliver tells us smiling as she walks into the room. Craig and the brainless slut come back in and sit on one of the armchairs together. Miley shyly waves. "Hello everyone.

"Hi!"

"Hey."

"Sup."

"Hello Miley." I say as her eyes meet mine. She nods and takes a place next to me (even though there were several more comfortable places to sit then the floor! … Not that it means anything…)

"So we just finished math, and now we're moving onto English." Sarah explains passing out papers to everyone. "I made a list of everything that's supposed to be on the test."

I take a sheet and tuck it underneath the stacks of notes. It's not like I'm going to study. I only came to this thing so I wouldn't be all alone at my house, it's creepy when it gets dark out.

Miley takes the sheet, reading it thoroughly. What a nerd, I smirk. She catches me and gives me a weird look. "Something funny?"

I shake my head. She rolls her eyes and turns her attention back to the task. Oliver starts quizzing Sarah and her friends on literary tenses, Craig and his girlfriend are kissing. I play with my pencil and watch the clock.

"You want to… um quiz me?"

I look over at Miley, she's holding up the packet Mr. Gunter handed us about the jargon words that will be on the mid-term. I take the paper and read the first one. The terms are on different philosophies.

"What is existentialism?"

"The.. The philosophy centered on the analysis of human existence. It stresses the freedom and responsibility of the individual." Miley says with a nervous smile as she bites her lower lip. "Is that right."

I laugh, "And here I was thinking ballerinas were stupid. Who taught you about 20th century philosophies?"

I receive a smile from her. "Ballerinas are _not _stupid we happen to excel in philosophy terms of morals and values."

"Was that a joke coming from the melancholy Miss. Stewart?!" I exclaim snorting.

"Possibly… I've done some research on different ways of thinking… it's interesting. I like it." She says leaning against the side of the couch.

"That's cool." I say. We lock eyes.

Her usual shielded gaze has softened. I see a rising emotion springing from the blue hues of her oval shaped eyes. I want to reach out and touch it, grab that look and hold it close I want to know what she is saying beneath the surface.

"Earth to Lily!" Stupid Craig is waving his hand in my face. "Did you not hear us?"

I blink. "Apparently not."

"We're going to play a game." Craig's slutty girlfriend says leaning down from the armchair. I can see all the way down her shirt. Gross, someone needs a bra.

"Wh-What kind of game?" Miley asks, shrinking into the couch.

"The fun kind." The girlfriend smiles.

…

**Author's Note: **The reviews are spectacular. (Laughs) I really don't see what's so special about my writings but if you guys are pleased then that's all that matters. Leave your thoughts (rambles, questions, confusion, concerns, problems- all are welcome.)


	12. On Fine Lines

We sit in a circle. I roll my eyes, but follow along. Miley is sitting with wide eyes gripping her English notes. I offer her a soft smile and she looks at me with a new unshielded gaze, the only problem? I can't read it.

Janise, Craig's girlfriend, smiles and places a glass bottle in the center. "Please!" I sneer. "Don't tell me_ Spin the Bottle_?" I ask in a high pitched voice, mocking Janise.

The girl frowns and shakes her head. "No."

Craig wraps his arm around her and kisses her neck then glares at me. "It's called lighten up," He turns back to his arm candy, "Now what did you have in mind baby?"

"Spin the bottle wouldn't be _that_ bad." Macy admits twirling a strand of her brown hair ogling Craig with a smirk.

"Except… what if we landed on someone of the same sex?" Brittany asks chewing a piece of gum. "I mean no offense Lily! But I'm not…"

I snort. "Don't flatter yourself sweetheart. I'm not into your kind." Brittany seems a little offended and I catch Miley snickering behind her hands.

"Truth or Dare?"

"Lame!"

"Alright Lily!" Oliver warns giving me his serious face. Sarah rests her hand on his shoulder and gives me a small smile.

"What's so bad about truth or dare? I think it'd be fun. It will get us all a chance to know each other better… what about just answering truth questions?" Sarah offers looking around the room as we all give a slow nod of approval.

"Right then!" Janise grins clapping her hands. "I'll go first." Janise reaches for the bottle and spins it. It lands on me. "Lily?"

I give her a dirty look but answer with a bored, "Yeah?"

"Hummm," She strokes her chin. "Oh I got one! When did you know you were like… _gay_?"

Why does everyone ask that? It gets so annoying after the first twenty million times. I laugh anyway. "I don't know Janise when did you know you were straight?"

She seems a little taken back and sinks into Craig's side. "Just answer the question."

"Not until you answer mine… and why ask it anyway? What are you like homophobic?" I'm barking up the wrong tree, I know, but my confidence is burning bright and I have the upper hand. I sit back, arms folded.

Oliver steps in, like always running my fun. "How about we ask different questions, less controversial."

The game moves on finding a steady rhythm. The questions are pretty lame but I have to admit this is a lot better then studying.

"Okay… umm Miley?"

Miley turns and looks at Sarah, she's gotten more comfortable as the hour wore on. "Yeah?" She asks with a lazy smile.

"How about you tell us something no one knows about you. Maybe a hobby? Secret talent?"

Miley chews on her inner cheek and tilts her head back. "Well… I can play the guitar."

"That's so cool!" I blurt out. Everyone's eyes turn to me. Oliver gives me a smug grin; he knows how I feel about Miley, which is total bull because I'm still a little confused on my feelings.

"Thanks." Miley blushes. She reaches and twists the bottle. It spins for a second and lands on Craig. He gives a cocky grin to Miley and waits.

She thinks for a moment. "I… I don't have a question."

"Aw come on kitten! You must want to know _something_ about my life?" Craig smiles leaning into Miley, his side digging into hers. My temper flares.

_Don't fucking touch her!_

Miley shakes her head, eyes wide in fear as she scoots over, closer to me. She doesn't like being touched, what about that don't people get? Miley has to touch you first. And then and only then may you lightly place your hand on hers.

"Alright." Craig sighs dramatically while twisting the bottle. It lands on Brittany. There's a brief pause before Craig laughs and asks, "When was your first time?"

Everyone's head snaps to Brittany. She blushes crimson red and shakes her head. "Why? Curious much?"

He just chuckles. "Aw come one! This game is so boring! It's time we bring sex into the picture, and don't tell me none of you were wondering."

"It was… during summer with Greg Frankston." Brittany admits shyly.

"The baseball player?!" Amber squeals. "Oh my Gwad! You're so bad!"

I really hate those girls. I sigh and adjust my position, rolling my eyes. "What?" Craig asks raising an eyebrow. "Are we boring you Lily?"

"Not at all, please proceed." I say making a long fluid motion with my hand.

Brittany frowns. "Well fine tell us about your first time then!"

My eye catches Oliver's. He's got one arm wrapped tightly around Sarah as she stares at me, waiting. I don't know if she knows about Oliver and I having sex. She knows we dated but… Oliver shrugs and nods. I gain my confidence back smirk. "Talk to Oliver. When was it Ollie? Winter break?"

Macy giggles. "No way! I never knew you two… you know?"

"Well we did." Oliver glares. He looks down at Sarah and kisses her cheek. "But it doesn't matter any more. Lily and I are just friends."

"Are you okay Sarah?" I ask suddenly feeling a little remorseful.

She shrugs. "Well… yeah I mean Oliver and I have already talked about it. You two have a history together just like I've had history with other guys. Why should I judge?"

Sarah's pretty awesome.

It's funny but I almost forgot Miley was with us, she's been sitting so quietly. She's currently playing with a silver bracelet on her wrist, lips flat and eyes blazing with a new shade of blue.

"Any more stories?" Janise asks looking around the circle. "What about you Miley? Got any past lovers back in L.A.?"

Her head jerks up and she opens and closes her mouth. Finally she gives a weak and pained smile. "N-Nothing worth talking about."

"Ooh!" Craig rubs his hands together. "I think we have a virgin alert!"

Miley's back digs deeper into the couch. Her face is growing flushed. "There's nothing wrong with that." Macy smiles sympathetically. "Actually it's better to wait, better then doing it in the back of a football player's car." She shivers and sticks out her tongue. "I swear football players are all talk because Vince was terrible."

Everyone except me and Miley laugh.

"But come on Miley! Give us something I'd think a big city girl would have _tons _of experience." Craig eggs on wiggling his eyebrows.

"I _said_ it was nothing." Miley's voice is hard and final. I don't think I've ever seen her angry. But now her eyes are glaring, clearly aggravated, at Craig.

The idiot holds up his hands in mock defense. "Okay, okay, my mistake, besides you're way to wound up to have any sexual experience." He snickers. That's it!

"Leave it alone!" I growl.

Miley shuts her eyes and breaths in deep. "I think I'm going to go." She says opening her eyes and standing up.

"No, no stay." I beg getting up. Miley smiles weakly at me.

"I've got things to do, it would be better if I just left." She says gathering up her books.

Janise snickers. "Can't take the game… little miss prude."

My body makes a sharp turn to Janise. Miley stops and stares at us. "Just because you're the biggest slut does not give you the right to ridicule others." I snarl, hands clenched, eyes burning into hers.

"Takes one to know one!" Janise laughs running one her long red painted fingernails through her hair. I've had enough!

"That's it I'm out!" I shout throwing my arms up storming off, grabbing my bag.

……

Miley is sitting in her car with her head on the steering wheel. I give a gentle knock to the window. Her body jerks up and she rolls down the window, tiredly.

"You're taking me home and then we're getting a few things straight." I tell her before walking around the car and getting inside. I walked to Oliver's house, leaving Ernie at home because the poor guy needed a break.

Miley is staring at me. "I… you what?"

"I'm getting tired of defending you over and over again and not even knowing what I'm defending." I spit out honestly.

"I never asked for your help." Miley says slowly.

"Well too bad you got me."

Miley sighs loudly before staring up the car. We drive in silence and I try to sort out my thoughts.

…..

We stand on my front steps staring at one another. Miley fumbles with her car keys and I gather my wit. "What happened to you? Who are you, really?" I ask cutting right to the case.

Miley shakes her head. "I don't understand the question, this is me! What's so hard to get?"

"Everything! Tell me, truthfully what happened to you? It's not fair Miley, I spill my heart out to you and you give nothing in return!" I'm being bitchy, I know but I'm tired of all these fucking mind games!

"You don't know anything about me! You don't _need _to know anything about me, okay? I'm selfish, snobby and inconsiderate!" Miley yells.

"I don't believe you!" I shout back, hands down at my side. "I want to know you! I want to know that girl who got that tattoo!" I say pointing to her wrist.

"She's _gone_! My life in L.A. is a mad blur! I deserved everything that was thrown at me!" Her teeth are gritted with a tight jaw. Her eyes are screaming while her chest heaves up and down. Miley is expressing a new side of herself I never knew could exist in her. And it's scaring me.

"… Deserved?" I whisper. "Miley." I reach out and touch her arm only for her to tear away.

"Don't _touch _me! I said _no_! I said no Allen!"

My throat closes up and my head feels dizzy. "W-Who's Allen?"

…

**Author's Note: **I'm so very sorry about the wait. I've been dealing with a few personal issues and needed some time to think. Thank-you for your patience. Leave your thoughts.


	13. With Trembling Hands

I'm cruising downtown in my fancy new red coverable. Nate is playing with the radio. The hood is down and the wind takes my hair. I laugh and adjust the big black sunglasses on my face. Nate laughs with me and flings his arms up as we leave the city limits. All that lays ahead for us are long dirt country roads and the endless horizon of cloudless blue.

Like I said, I'm a compulsive liar. My mind does that- it fades away when something drastic happens. I make up a new storyline, one more fitting, more optimistic. I wasn't ready when she told me and even now, looking back I'm still not ready to hold this knowledge.

…..

We're sitting on the couch. Miley's head is in my lap. I'm rubbing her back as she quietly sobs. I'm not good at this; it's usually the other way around. I'm supposed to be broken and crying. I'm no good at making others feel better. I'm not even warm- I'm as cozy as bared wire.

But here she is a beautiful angle whimpering and repeating words that I wish I didn't know. Her sentences are muffled and weak, I can't take this. "Miley?" I say testing out my soothing voice. "Miley look at me."

I pull her up gently and for once she lets me hold her close, but then she's back, scooting away from me. "Talk to me." I beg her.

Miley wipes her sad eyes and puts her head in her hands. "I can't… I can't go through it again. I'm sorry."

I squeeze the bridge of my nose, frustrated, and let out a shaky sigh. "This, this Allen he hurt you? Miley just give me something."

She sits up straighter and sniffs loudly, rubbing her nose on her long sleeved sweater. Her face is blotchy and red. I see a tear run along the end of her nose and fall. Seeing her like this… it's just unreal.

"He… he r-ra…"

Oh god, don't say it please don't say it!

She shuts her mouth and claps her hands together so tightly I'm scared she'll shatter them. I notice the bags under her eyes, now that her make-up has run completely off her face I see the lines, the effects that long sleepless nights leave.

"Do you want to write it down?"

She nods.

I pull out my notepad and flip to an empty page. With trembling hands she jots it all down. I don't know what's worse hearing her say it or have it written down. She finishes and closes her eyes.

_I was raped. At a party last year. He's name is Allen._

I shut my eyes. Jesus- having it written is worse, much worse. When I open them Miley is staring at me. She dose not back down as I hold the gaze.

"Do you… you want to talk?" It's a stupid question, you'd think after having a tragedy like I did I would be better with situations like this, but I'm not. I stumble and sometimes make it worse.

She shrugs. "It's h-hard."

"Let's take it step by step then. It was at a party?"

Miley looks out the window. I don't think she's talking to me anymore, she's off, and her eyes glaze over.

"It was after a ballet recital." Pause. "Rachael's older brother was having a party. We snuck in… I was so stupid… that dress was too tight, too revealing, but I wanted it. I wanted the attention to feel…" She shakes her head and a bitter laugh escapes her lips, "_sexy_." She turns to me and more tears pour from her eyes.

"Lily." Her voice is raw and tried. "I'm not a good person."

"Yes you are it's not your fault! He is the monster!" My voice hitches up in my throat and comes out high and scratchy.

"But I went with him! … It's funny; he seemed so normal, so nice. A respectable college student majoring in pre-law." Miley's body shivers. "He… he wanted to go somewhere quiet…. It was so dark and I-" She chokes back a quiet sob with her hand. "He _pushed _me down." She sucks in a breath. "The bed was so cold."

I try to imagine it. The icy bed, the dark room, and rough hands all over her body. How frightening. To have someone touch you that way. To not know. I get a good look at Miley. I stare intently; I want to take it all away.

I wonder what she was like before.

I wonder what her laugh sounded like before someone stole her joy, innocence, and childhood.

Did Miley's eyes sparkle? I think they did. I think those blue eyes shone with pride under the stage's bright lights. I try and picture her- a happy little ballerina prancing on the wooden stage. No worry or care.

"Was it… was it your first time?"

She nods. "It was… so scary. I called out, cried but no one could hear the music was too loud."

"What about your friends?"

"They don't know. I couldn't tell them. It was so hard to breathe. For that year I just… I felt like I was under water someone was holding me under." She answers in a monotone voice.

Rape.

She was raped.

It's so hard to get through my head. I can't wrap my arms around the idea. She looks like an empty shell. A chewed up version of what she used to be. It is here and now that I make a silent vow to bring the light back into her perfect eyes. I want to hear that old laugh- is that selfish?

"I still don't know why you blame yourself. Miley, you did _nothing_ wrong." I put my hand out in the middle of the couch, just in case she wants comfort, she doesn't.

"You didn't know me then."

"Fine!" I sigh. "Tell me who you were?"

"… A bitch."

I can't see it. Miley a bitch? No, not my sweet, shy Miley. (When did she become mine?)

"So you say you deserve all this pain? You deserve what Allen did to you, just because you were a little Prima Dona? Because you don't. I could care less how mean you thought you were no one should have to deal with this."

Miley frowns. "You don't know everything. You don't know what…"

"Don't leave me like this, Miley, is there _more_?" It scares me to even think about, what more could she have possibly endured?

"Three weeks… three weeks later I…found out I was pregnant."

Shit.

_Shit_.

This is too much, just too much! I swallow hard. "Miley, you have a baby?"

She's trembling violently now, "No." She whispers, "I don't."

…

**Author's Note: **Leave your thoughts…


	14. Words Bleed Her

My bed is warm. The sheets are fresh and have that perfect just washed smell. The sky is dark and outside I hear a dog bark. The wind picks up and tree branches knock against my window. I want to touch her, but I'm afraid. I would hate to wake or scare her.

So I keep my hands clasped on my stomach. My head is sunken into my pillow and my breath comes out nice and slow. She looks distressed even in sleep. I frown and reach out to stroke her long brown hair.

"So you're awake?" My hand stops and I pull back as her voice fills the air.

"Yes. You can't sleep?"

I watch her shake her head. Miley pulls her face up from the other pillow and looks to me. "Thanks for letting me stay."

I shrug. "No biggie… how um... How are you feeling?"

Miley rolls on her back and mimics my position. "Not like myself. You'd think after relieving my darkest secret there would be a sense of relief, but I don't feel like that, not at all."

"Why not?" I ask staring at the ceiling. A dog barks. Car lights stream through my window.

"Because I'm terrified." She whispers. "Lily?" I hate the way she says my name so weakly. "Why haven't you turned me away? For what I've done…"

I turn sharply to look at her. "Miley, why would I ever do that? You were scared, alone, and frightened."

"I killed someone, Lily. I _murdered _someone." Miley's voice is ice. I shiver and try to pull the sheets around me.

"Do you believe that?"

"Yes… it was a person. I don't care what scientists say or what biology books may read… that was a person… and I ripped it apart." I cringe as she says this. "I remember the hospital room… the white hell. The cold hands of the nurse… and the doctor. He did it so fast, heartless. I cried."

I don't know if I really want to hear what happened. But I have to keep watching her, even as tears slide down her cheek sideways. "I _hate_ him… and I loath myself." She hisses harshly.

"You regret it?" I whisper.

"Every. Single. Day." She says quietly and so very slowly. "My dad told me he would support any decision I made… but I could tell… he… he was disappointed."

I make a face. "He's a guy, they don't understand anything. It is your body Miley. And someone took it and broke it."

"But it still _hurts_." She cries meekly. I move a little closer. I lick my lips.

"Miley? Can I, well, would you let me hold you?"

She nods.

And for the first time I scoot my body right up next to hers, it's warm and soft, and wrap my arms around her so tightly and securely. She's tense and unsure. But then I feel her face bury itself into my neck. I feel her warm tears and feel my own eyes water, but no tears fall.

"Sleep… sleep…" I whisper warmly into her hair. "Sweet dreams… only sweet dreams."

…..

"Lily, Lily get up!" My mother is patting my foot angrily. I open my eyes.

"What?" I snap tiredly rubbing my eyes. My mother is glaring at my current position- My arms around Miley's waist and her body melting into my side.

Miley stirs and pulls away from me and sits up with a bolt seeing my mother. "I tolerated Lauren, I really did Lily, but this needs to end, right now. You can't just bring strays into the house whenever you feel like it."

Ouch, that one hurt. "This is Miley, _mom_, my friend. Surely you remember me telling you that?" I snap throwing the covers off me.

A brief realization flashes over my mother's face before she clears her throat and straightens her business suit. "Your father has already left and I have an early meeting. You're on your own for dinner… I'm sorry Miley." She says finally looking to Miley. "Hopefully we can meet on better terms again."

With a swift turn on her heel, my mother is gone closing the door behind her. Miley shifts around in the sheets and nervously bites her lip. "So, that's your mom?"

"Yes, a gem isn't she?"

Miley gathers her hair together and pulls it into a pony tail. She finishes up on her hair and drops her hands into her lap. "I should go. Sorry for getting you in trouble."

She's up and out of the bed in a blink of an eye.

"Whoa! Miley don't you… maybe want to talk? About everything?"

"Not really."

And just like my mother, she's gone.

…..

I'm not angry. Why should I be? Just weeks ago I was in her shoes pouring out my soul to another person, and doing it with a heavy sigh. Maybe Miley and I are alike in that way. Don't let anyone too close; keep the distance when it comes to personal things. But I want to comfort her.

That's a first.

I hate when people cry. I hate dealing with those situations. But with Miley it's just different. She's not some random idiot, she's… well she's Miley. I've never felt like this before. It's scary and sometimes I have this uncontrollable urge to throw up, but then she looks at me and it all goes away.

…..

"It's fucking yellow."

"So what?"

"It's yellow!"

Sarah huffs and puts her hands on her hips as Oliver sighs and rubs his temples. "Fine, I'll wear it. I'm sorry."

Sarah jumps for joy and kisses Oliver's cheek. He eyes the yellow bowtie with a grime frown.

Currently, we're getting ready for Sarah's parent's annual "Green Earth" party. A rather corny fundraiser to promote recycling, make Global Warming aware, blah, blah just a bunch of tree huger stuff. Her parents worked with the Peace Corps last year. They got back over summer. Sarah had to stay at her grandparent's house the whole time her parents were gone. It surprises me how well Sarah gets along with her parents, especially because they're gone a lot of time. But then, they all share the same interests so it makes sense.

Sarah picks up the bowtie and helps Oliver tie it. He frowns and I openly laugh at them.

"Shut-up Lily." He growls giving me his famous death glare.

Sarah shakes her head at me. "Please Lily don't make him more self conscious then he already is? Oh! Shoot! I forgot the tickets! Be right back!" Sarah runs off into her bedroom.

"Ready for the fundraiser?" Oliver asks adjusting his bowtie. I shrug and lean back into the couch.

"I can't believe your actually going to wear that thing." I laugh.

"It makes her happy and besides Sarah's wearing a yellow dress so we'll match." Oliver says taking a seat careful not to wrinkle his suit.

"God, you're so whipped!"

Oliver just smiles his boyish grin. "And you know what? I'm perfectly fine with it… oh yeah, how's Miley? I forgot to ask before."

"She's… well she's…" And here it is another crossroads. To tell or not to tell. I fumble with the hem of my black dress. I want to tell him. Keeping all these secrets for her are beginning to wear me down. Miley doesn't want to talk about it, but I do!

"You promise not to tell Sarah?"

Oliver turns his head and frowns. "I don't know… I mean its Sarah you know, why is it bad?"

"Very bad, Miley had one shitty life in L.A." I stare at my feet. "I want to tell you Oliver, because I need your help, I don't know what to do."

Quick as lightening Oliver is no longer Sarah's boyfriend, he's suddenly my best friend holding my hand and trying to cots the words out of me. "Lily, you can tell me anything, I promise I won't say a word."

"Okay, well you see…"

Oliver's face has yet to regain its color. His cheeks are pale. I sigh and let go of his hand. "I just found out yesterday."

"That's… that's terrible… I mean… why would she do that?"

I open my mouth and close it quickly giving Oliver a hard glare. "What do you mean? She did what she had too. You aren't honestly going to go all republican on me are you?" I snap angrily.

"No, but how could she do that to a child? A baby?" Oliver whispers.

"You don't get it do you? Oliver, she was _raped_ and then got pregnant by that bastard. You don't understand." I say my temper boiling. "You're just a stupid guy. Boys don't know what it's like."

"And you do?" Oliver shoots back. "I don't think any less of Miley it's just, personally, I don't agree. I understand she didn't want the baby but couldn't she just have put it up for adoption? Please let's not fight."

I look out the window at the dark November sky. And now I'm angry at Oliver, my comfort, my best friend. Sarah returns smiling and holding up our tickets. "Got them!" She hands Oliver his and turns to me. "Are you bringing anyone for your plus one?" She asks giving my ticket to me.

…..

It's so _fucking_ cold! I shiver under my heavy jacket and try knocking again on the front door. I wait and jump up and down a little to get warm. It's a little creepy out here with all the large trees hanging over the house.

The wooden door swings open. "Hi!" I smile cheerfully while waving the hand that is not deep in my jacket pocket. "I'm Lily… Miley's friend? I was wondering if I could talk to her."

Her father towers over me but he smiles and it softens his gruff face drastically. "Oh yes, Lily, Miley's spoken highly of you, come in, come in."

She's talked about me? I know it's stupid but it makes me feel giddy. I walk inside and instantly I'm flooded with a rich smell of cookies and warmth coming from their small fireplace in the living room.

"Miles!" Her dad calls from the stairs. Her house is so cozy. Like a photo right out of one of those Better Homes and Gardens magazines. There's an entire wall of bookcases. The shelves are over flowing with novels. I can imagine her sitting on the couch reading with a warm blanket. I can't help the true smile that curves over my lips.

Miley comes bounding down the stairs when she spots me her face pales. Why do I always seem to have that affect on people? "Hey." I smile.

Her father leaves us and walks back to the kitchen, probably going to check on the cookies. "I'm not trying to be rude or anything but… what are you doing here?" She asks folding her arms over her chest.

I hold up the fundraiser ticket and grin. "Wanna party?"

…

**Author's Note: **I hope the abortion issue does not offend any of you. My view on the matter is it's the woman's choice. No questions asked. Also, there will be more on why Miley chose it. The reviews are wonderful, thank-you. I'm sorry for the lack of updates I have a lot going on. Leave your thoughts.

To my _One Art _friends, I'm so very sorry it's taking so long for me to come back. It's just… well the inspiration is dying out. But I will try harder. I'm determined to finish it. When? I don't know. But it will be back. Like I said I've got many things going on. Mr. Fishy is currently trying to keep her head above the water so be patient, please?


	15. Sideways Glances

"I don't know about this Lily." Miley says biting her lip. We're still standing in the living room.

"What? It'll be fun, festive whatever! I'm here as your friend asking you to come out with me on a Saturday night… and it's for a good cause!" I say wiggling my eyebrows earning a small smile from Miley.

"Come on." I whisper walking closer to her. "I want to get your mind off the past. I know it's hard but… trust me?"

Miley grips her arms tighter and ponders my suggestion. She looks back at the kitchen and then to me. "I don't have anything to wear."

…..

I'm sitting in her room. The walls are painted a dark red expect one wall on the right, which is the brick from outside of the house. There, a small white radiator is rattling as it warms the room. Her small twin bed sits under the window next to a white nightstand. Her room is decorated with ballet photos in black and white.

I spot a pair of old pink ballet shoes tossed in the corner. She has a very neat space. Her wooden desk is orderly in the way her papers and books are stationed. I smile as I run a finger over her bookcase, which is dust free.

"You're room is beautiful." I say as she changes in bathroom.

"Thank-you!" I hear her shout from the hall.

"Very… clean!" I yell back. Being slightly nosy I flip open an older looking file. Inside there are letters and pictures.

I see one picture of Miley with her arms around two girls standing in front of a tall building. So that's what she used to look like. I run my fingers over the photo. She has this light in her eyes. A carefree confident smile lingers on her lips. She looks sexy here. Her eyes scream pride, a very intense gaze. She was right though, the air she carries around her here sends a slightly bitchy and a very 'I'm better then you' message. But it suits her and I love it.

Where are you?

Where is that girl?

As I hear her feet on the carpet I shut the folder and turn around.

"What do you think?"

My heart jumps and I think it has literally stopped. This is wrong but… but my god she looks good. She's wearing a more relieving dress compared to her usual no skin showing what so ever type of clothing. The dress is a deep red wine color and complements her very slim figure and slightly tanned skin.

"I… I think it's great." I say choking over my words.

"You look nice too." She says gesturing to my black dress. She laughs dryly. "It's weird seeing you in something so feminine."

I put my hands on my hips and pretend to be insulted. "What? I can be girly!"

Miley giggles. I check my watch. "Ooh! We'd better get going the party starts in twenty minutes." I say. "Shall we?" I joke holding out my arm. Miley takes it.

"We shall." She agrees and we walk downstairs.

…..

"There you are! Oh! Miley! Hi." Oliver says nervously as we walk in. I can't help the feeling of pride rise up in myself as Miley stands particularly close to me. The ballroom is elegantly lit with dim chandelier lights. Floral arrangements of roses are the center pieces for every white circular table.

I must admit dressing up and pretending to "be someone" for one night has its benefits. And as much as I wish I didn't I love going to this fundraiser every year. The speeches are boring and the conversation sucks but I like feeling sophisticated.

Sarah and Oliver look perfect standing side by side. Her golden yellow dress works well with her new found curves and even though Oliver's bowtie is extremely dorky they look happy.

"Miley, would you mind if I stole you for a minute? I want to practice my save the dolphin's speech on you." Sarah asks smiling sweetly, "If Lily or Oliver hears it one more time they might go crazy."

Once they are out of ear shot I glare at Oliver. "Could you please _try_ and act normal?"

Oliver looks to his shoes and puts his hands in his pockets. "It's weird, you know, knowing what she's been through. I feel like I should… talk to her?"

"No! I brought her out tonight to forget about all that shit, maybe have a good time. Don't you dare bring her past up." My words are firm and hard. Oliver meets my eye and nods slowly.

…..

How does Miley do it? We're standing close to the drinks table and she's sipping a virgin daiquiri. She looks so grown up, so sure of herself right now. Her eyes look relaxed. There is soft warmth radiating from her to me.

I grip my glass a little tighter. Is it just me or does Miley seem… hotter? Maybe it's the drink! No, this is non alcoholic. Grumbling I take a long sip letting the ice hit my two front teeth. Miley seats her glass down and turns to me.

She touches my arm and the airs on my neck stand to attention. My throat grows dry. "Lily?" She smiles.

"… Y-Yeah?" Stupid! Stupid! I can't even talk!

"I'm glad you brought me tonight. It means a lot to me, this is defiantly more fun then lying around at home."

"It's really no big deal… I mean I had a ticket and… and you seem like the person who would appreciate this sort of thing." I shiver when her smile widens.

"You're very sweet." She says.

Sweet? _Sweet_?! I've never, not in all my seventeen years on earth, had someone call me sweet. Bitchy, cruel, sexy, self absorbed- all those yes, but not sweet. But now, looking into her unguarded eyes I suddenly feel like a whole new person. A better person.

"Thank-you." I say, I will admit, a little breathlessly.

…..

A hip jazz band is playing light music as we mingle before the speeches begin. The saxophonist is wearing black sunglasses and is wailing out one wicked tune. His instrument sound is good and raspy.

I've always had a soft spot for jazz. You can't fake the blues. You haven't lived till you've experienced a live performance in a hot swinin' jazz club. There's such true, untamed emotion flying wild from the singers and players lips that you can't help but be swept up in the feeling.

I wonder if Miley would like that. I know of a place downtown that Nate and I use to hit every weekend when our parents left for business. We would take a bus and spend the evening hanging with all those cool cats in dark shades and gray caps.

That's where my love affair with the drums began. I'll never forget Eddie, the music man. He taught me everything. Some nights I can still smell the smoky club and picture Annette in her silky red dress as she cries out into the microphone about a boy who- "done her so wrong."

"Miley? Darling is that you?" A woman with a very thick British accent comes gliding over to us. Her thin lips smile making her whole face curve upward. Her build is very tall and thin. I swear if she turns sideways she'll disappear. Her long black hair is pulled back and up into a very classy bun.

She moves with a quiet gracefulness as she steps closer, her long sparkling navy blue dress flowing from behind her. "Oh my dear it's been so long." She coos taking Miley's hand in both of hers and shaking it.

"Hello Mrs. Frankau." Miley greets. "It has been a long time."

"Oh, you look divine! Except…" The woman trails off and steps closer to Miley and whispers. "It is quiet obvious you've lost your little ballerina body. If you're looking to attend the Los Angeles Ballet program next year I would suggest a diet, love."

What the fuck? I think Mrs. What's Her Name is blind. Miley looks in tip top shape, maybe even a little too thin in my view. But Miley just nod and smiles politely.

"I know, but really, I've grown tired of ballet to be honest." She says with a grin that dose not reach her eyes.

Mrs. Frankau looks taken back. "My, my! You must be joking! You were one of my best pupils, Miley! Your form, your determination, the skill! The skill! You would be a fool to pass up such a gift. Don't they have classes here in," The woman smirks, "the south."

I frown and step up to Miley's side making my presence known. The British jerk smiles to me. "Hello, who are you?"

"Lily Truscott, it's a pleasure to meet your acquaintance." I bite sarcastically holding out my hand to shake hers. She looks displeased but lightly shakes my hand anyway. I thought I would have gotten a little giggle from Miley but she's standing looking annoyed and tired.

"So why are you here?" Miley asks.

"Business." Mrs. Frankau sighs, bored. "You remember my husband? Well, he's been very active in this origination for the past few months. Personally I find it rather dull, it's hard, as you could imagine, taking time off work. But oh well."

Miley smiles again. I raise an eyebrow at the woman; I've decided I hate her.

…..

Oliver claps and smiles charmingly as Sarah walks off the stage. She shakes hands with a few big important people and takes a seat back next to Oliver. "You were beyond amazing." He whispers in her ear as she blushes.

"Where's Miley?" Sarah asks after moment and a new speaker takes the stage.

"In the bathroom, I think." Oliver tells her while taking her hand.

"She's been in there for a really long time… I'm going to go check on her." I get up quickly; glad to be away from the stuffy high class atmosphere. It's fun for a while to prance around in fancy clothes, but the novelty wears off.

I walk down an empty hallway to the bathrooms. The red carpet makes a soft thug as my black heels walk across. I come to the women's restroom. Taking a deep breath I open the door.

Miley is hunched over the sink, her hands spread apart and griping the edge of the cream colored sink. Her knuckles are white and her body is shaking. Her hair covers her face as she rocks back and fourth on the heels of her feet. I close the door and it makes her jump.

"Lily!"

Her face is red. Her mascara is running leaving behind a long trail of black. "What happened?"

Miley turns away from me to look in the mirror.

"Was it that Mrs. Frankua? I swear if she said something to you I'll kick her boney little ass." I say my hands already balling up into fists.

"Could you…" She takes a deep breath. "Could you just leave me alone?"

"I thought this was good? I thought you were having a good time?" I hate how shy and meek I'm sounding, it's pathetic.

"Well I'm not, okay!" She growls dropping her head and resuming her earlier position of clutching the sink. "I think it would be better if we just… didn't talk anymore. I was doing fine until you kept pestering me about my life."

I feel like she's just slapped me. But my reflexes jump back into bitch mood. "And what about you? I was doing just peachy till you showed up and had me relive some of the most painful memories of my life! It wasn't easy talking about Nate! But I did it to be closer to you!"

"Why do you do that?!" She screams turning sharply on her heel to glare at me. "_Why_ do you want to be close to me?" Suddenly a smile crawls across her face; it's not a pretty smile. It's cold, evil. "So? You want to know me? Fine. You know what my very first thought was when I took that pregnancy test? 'There goes my ballet career!' Isn't that _sick_?" She's still wearing that devil smile as she glides closer to me.

"I didn't want that baby. I never wanted to have kids. It wasn't in my plan. After I got rid of it I tired to go back to being normal, forget everything. But I couldn't, I cracked. Do you know what that feels like?" She asks still wearing her wicked grin. "To crumble into a million little pieces?"

I swallow hard and try to stop the tears that are forming around my eyes. "Stop it." I hiss hotly at her, my teeth clenched.

"Stop what?" She laughs innocently.

"Stop trying to make me hate you, turn you away. It won't happen." I state firmly. Miley's joking mask falls apart before my very eyes. Her bottom lip trembles and she tries to stop it. She covers her mouth and lets out a hushed cry and bends over. She knells down and collapses to the ground, to the cold tile flooring.

I fall down next to her and pull her to my chest. "I won't let you crumble. I won't let you push me away." I whisper strongly as she clings to me, her tears pouring and cries growing louder. "I won't let you disappear."

"B-But why?" She asks in a low husky voice thick from her crying. Miley looks up at me, waiting.

"Don't make me answer that."

…

**Author's Note: **Phew! Well, I'm beat. Two English papers and this chapter later I'm about ready to collapse! Your reviews have kept my spirits high, and for that I'm thankful. Also, I'm pleased to know I haven't frightened anyone away with my views on abortion. It's nice to see so many open minded people.

_**Herminone032192: **_I know! There were so many moments in that episode that had me cursing Disney. The way they tease us!


	16. Playground Metaphors

"NO! NO! NOOO! I fucking hate you Craig!"

"Lily?"

"Shove it Oliver!" I snap at him before turning my attention back to the phone. "I can't believe you!" I scream to Craig on the other line. Oliver and Miley sit horrified on my living room couch as I start foaming at the mouth.

"How could you be so stupid?" I shout flinging my right arm out. I hear Craig sigh loudly.

"It wasn't my fault." He says.

"WHAT? Okay, so someone else _made_ you act like a jackass on _my _skateboard and break your arm?" I spit angrily.

"Well… no? Look, I already said I was sorry. I know this gig meant a lot to you-"

"No shit it meant a lot to me!"

Another sigh.

"Lily, please it was an accident." He insists.

"Yeah, sure just like last year when you broke your guitar right before our big show. Or like the year before that when you got stoned and _forgot _to show up. Well guess what Craigy boy, your out! I'm not dealing with you anymore! I'm kicking you out of my band!"

He laughs. "Oh, sure, whatever, try finding another guitar player who's up to my mad skills!"

I slam the phone into the receiver not wanting to hear his stupid voice laughing, mocking me. I hate him!

"I hate him!" I scream stomping around like a two year old.

"So? I guess that means no practice this Tuesday." Oliver laughs, trying and failing to lighten the mood.

I collapse on the couch folding my arms over my chest, pouting. "It's just not fair. We've been practicing _so_ hard." I meet Miley's eye when suddenly a light bulb appears. "Hey Miley! Ever wanted to be a rockstar?"

…..

"_Oh, oh, honey leave those Sunday school rules at home! Stay the night, day never let me be! I'm searching, lurking for your warmth, that touch. No looking back, you've left those morals far behind… in the dust… in the dust…_" My lips are pressed against the microphone. I beat out heavily on the drums; it's not fast, fairly slow. Oliver sways from side to side.

Miley looks a little nervous. She's clutching my old electric guitar and biting her bottom lip. Her fingers move hesitantly and fearfully. I stop the song when she messes up the cord progression I added last week.

"Miley? Have you been playing the guitar for very long?" I ask pushing the mike away from me and setting the drumsticks down.

She nods. "I'm just… I've never handled an electric one before and… well your songs are very fast paced."

I nod smiling. "You're an acoustic girl, right?"

She blushes. "Yes."

I stand and walk around the drum set and speakers. "Here." I say standing behind her, careful not to touch her. I straighten out the strap and adjust some of the cords. I'm standing so close. I can smell her perfume- lilac, she smells like lilacs.

Her face is flustered from the hot garage and maybe, possibly from me practically standing on top of her. "There, better?" I ask.

She shrugs. I laugh and help straighten her fingers out as we practice the different notes. I can hear Oliver sit on my stool and begin fumbling with my drums. "How's this?" I whisper in her hair holding her hands down on the steam of the guitar.

"Good." She whispers back shakily.

I let go, because if I don't now I might do something drastic. Like, oh I don't know, slam her down right here and take her- hard and fast. I lick my lips, shaking my head. That was so inappropriate! But, I don't know, there's something really sexy about her holding my old red guitar and rocking her hips, back and fourth as I slowly start up a steady tempo on the drums.

…..

"Thanks for letting me… _jam_ with you today." She smiles as we walk down the street, hands in our pockets, the early December wind picking up.

"No big deal. You're really good, once you get going… I'd like to hear you on your guitar sometime." I say as we turn the corner. It's quiet now. Oliver couldn't walk with us; he said something about a paper he had to write. But I know its total bull shit because he winked and wished me luck.

"Um about that night at that party?"

Miley cringes. "Please, don't bring that up."

"I don't want to talk about it! I just want to say… I meant when I said about being here… for you." I mumble kicking a rock suddenly feeling very exposed. It's that damn "sweet side" why do I always turn to mush when she's around?

She stops walking and turns to me looking serious. "Thank-you. I promise not to push you away anymore… but I'm messy you know?"

"And I'm not?" I snort. "Miley, I'm beyond fucked up."

We reach the park. My converse shoes crunch against the damp mulch. Miley looks around with a sad smile. The playground is wet from the early morning drizzle of rain. I sigh and watch my cold breath freeze out in front of me.

"Wanna sit on the teeter-totter?" I ask.

Miley nods and we jog over. It's a pretty crappy teeter-totter but Nate and I used to play on it every Saturday when we were kids and when the world made sense. I sniff lightly and tug at the end of my gray sweatshirt as Miley and I sit down.

It takes a moment to find a rhythm and balance each other out. (Okay, okay I will admit I'm heavier then Miley, kind of on the fat side. Oliver used to say, while we dated, my curves were sensual, they had a lovely womanly grace about them… whatever I call it fat.)

It's too quiet for my liking. "Favorite singer, band whatever?" I ask as I go down and Miley goes up.

She ponders for a moment, her head tilted up. "I don't know. I like all kinds of music… but I do have a certain thing for Carla Bruni."

I stop teeter-tottering and frown. "Who?"

Miley lets out a happy laugh. "She's a French singer. Really Lily! You must become more cultured!"

I smile, because she looks reasonably happy. "Oh well excuse me!" I shoot back jokingly.

"I'll let you barrow one of my albums, you'd like her." Miley assures me as I go up and she goes down.

"I'd like that."

…..

It's a little funny, how being with her and making her happy makes me happy. Seeing her smile, or laugh makes me light headed and full of accomplishment. When she looks at me I don't see myself as a failure. I' am free from the stereotypically chains of being the- "rebellious rich girl."

I'm just Lily.

She's just Miley.

And now just Miley is taking me by the hand to her room. Her dad politely says hello and I wave back and then off we go. She shuts the door and once again I'm struck at how perfectly put together her bedroom is. She fumbles through her closet.

"Just sit anywhere." Miley says over her shoulder. I eye the bed, oh how I want to sit and sink into her lilac smelling bed sheets. Or possibly lay my face deep into her pillow and breathe in the scent of her shampoo… but that might be coming on a little too strong. We're both still damaged still fucked up and above all that? Miley isn't gay.

At least… I don't think so.

Is she?

No, no she couldn't be.

Damn it!

I chose to sit at her desk. Her small gray colored chair looks comfortable. I watch as she looks through a bag of CD's. On the way to her house Miley opened up and told me about all her favorite classical pieces. And I, being a music freak, needed her to show me.

"Okay." Miley says standing and dragging out a large brown trunk from her closet. "These are my classical tapes."

My jaw drops. "How many do you have?!"

She goes red. "Well… some are mine and others belonged to my mother. Anyway, I haven't really looked at these since well… since I stopped ballet."

She opens the trunk. I peer inside and smile. It's like the holy grail of all classical music. All I can muster up to say is, "Wow."

She pulls out a CD and jumps up quickly and sets it inside her radio. I wait. She turns to me smiling. And then reaches into a small box on her desk and pulls out two small heresy bars, she hands one to me. "Sometimes after a rough day, or practice or anything I used to come home and listen to my music and eat chocolate."

She pushes play on the radio and a light hypnotizing sound of a piano and violin hit me. Miley and I position ourselves on her soft carpet floor. I unwrap the chocolate and place one of the small squares in my mouth.

"I like to let the chocolate melt in my mouth." I say as Miley nods.

"Me too." She says. "It tastes better, in a way."

I relax and close my eyes. "This is beautiful." I whisper. Miley makes a soft- 'Mum-hum' noise in responds.

The music is intoxicating. It gives me an earthy Zen feeling in my bones. I'm one with the floor, with myself. And part of me feels deeply connect to her as I crack open my eyes and stare at her. Miley's eyes are snapped shut and a dreamful gaze is present on her facial features.

I breathe out evenly and feel myself start to drift. This is perfect, the tension in my body leaves. I feel like I'm floating in water. The world is fading and I'm perfectly still, perfectly put together. I wonder if Nate has this kind of peace, wherever he is, I hope so.

"Ruff!"

I jump. "Sh-Shit!"

Opening my eyes I spot a tiny ball of fluff looking up at me with two big brown eyes. Miley laughs and shakes her head.

"Come here boy." She coos holding out her arms. The little dog skips over to her, practically tripping over its own big feet. "This," She says cuddle the fur ball, "Is Tchaikovsky, we named him after the famous composer."

I nod and smile even though I have no idea what she's talking about. "What… what is it?" I ask tilting my head to get a better look.

"He's a Yorkshire terrier." Miley smiles. "Sorry if he scared you, Tchaikovsky likes to hide under my bed."

The dog looks to me with sad eyes. He quickly escapes from Miley's arms and rushes into my lap. His small body is warm. "I'm not much of an animal person…or a people person." I admit lamely.

Miley shrugs. "Well, he seems to like you."

I awkwardly pat his head. "Hi Tchaikovsky."

"No, no." Miley laughs. "Pet him behind the ears, he likes it." I do as she says and the dog closes his eyes and gives a soft grunt of approval. After I finish he licks my fingertips and runs back to hide under the bed.

"That's wired." I laugh.

Miley nods. "I know but so are we."

…..

_December 5, 2011- Journal Entry #45 _

"My great mistake, the fault for which I can't forgive myself, is that one day I ceased my obstinate pursuit of my own individuality." –Oscar Wilde

_What does it mean to 'be yourself'? _

_What if I don't even know who I am? _

_I thought I did, but then again doesn't everyone. You think you know and then one day you wake up and something comes and smashes into you, and suddenly your whole world is gone. _

_Poof! (Like a mushroom cloud…)_

_I thought I knew where my life was heading. Some bull shit job, stuck in a place, in a life, I didn't want- just like my parents. But then something (someone) crashed into me. And BOOM! I have all these possibilities. I have all these new ideas. It's terrifying yet thrilling- like a rollercoaster ride. _

_Up down up down twist turn! Faster! Faster! … I just hope the ride ends well. _

…

**Author's Note: **Leave your thoughts.


	17. Tell Me Where It Hurts

I slide the black mitten onto my left hand and smile. It still fits, even after all these years. My long red coat is buttoned up to the top and my gray scarf, a Christmas present from last year, is wrapped snuggly around my neck. My hair for once is out of a ratty bun and nicely, if I do say so myself, framing my face.

I take one last look in mirror. I'm wearing thicker make-up today; I want her to notice me in a different way. I want her to see that I can be sophisticated and elegant in the way I dress and style my hair. It's stupid, but I've never wanted someone this bad.

It started out almost as a game. Ha, ha play with the straight girl's emotions. But, it's so much _more_ now. I'm even trying harder during class. I study, answer teacher's questions. I want to gain Miley's respect but more importantly her trust. So, today, I'm going to try and grab her attention not from my intelligence but from my body.

…..

Oliver whistles as I sit down in math class. "Well, well looks like someone got hit by the pretty stick." He chuckles taking out his notes.

"Shut-up." I hiss under my breath. I can't help it, I blush. I'm suddenly regretting this bold move. Why didn't I just wear my _Doors_ t-shirt? Shouldn't Miley like me for me? Then again I don't even know if she likes me in that way… why is this so fucking hard? Mary and Lauren were easy targets. I knew what they wanted from the beginning I never had to deal with mixed feelings.

…..

English comes and I find myself banging my head against the desk swearing violently under my breath- "_Stupid, stupid, so fucking stupid!_"

"You know I hear dramatic blows to the head cause lose of brain cells."

I lift my head, ready with an angry glare but instead I see her, sitting with a smirk and eyes twinkling. She looks… happy. Miley crosses her legs and I take moment to let her presences overwhelm me. She's wearing a black sweater that clings to her nicely but also leaves room for the imagination.

I grin and sit back in my seat. "Well, at the time it seemed like a good idea."

She just shakes her head and then… I feel her eyes on me, looking my outfit up and down. Nervously I fumble with my pencil. No one's made me this jumpy before. I feel so fragile under her gaze. For the love of God, Santa Clause, Father Time, and the Tooth Fairy let this torture en-

"You look really nice."

"H-Huh?"

Miley keeps a serious face- she'd be really good at poker. "You look… very nice today."

I gulp. "Thank-you."

The bell rings and Mr. Gunter begins writing something on the board. Score!

…..

I tap my pencil on the desk three times and then sigh loudly and turn to the clock. Bored… so bored…. I don't understand! It's Friday! Shouldn't I be out smoking a joint and getting drunk while eyeing a pretty red head?

Grumbling I turn in my seat as my mother calls my name. "Lily! Your friend is here!"

Before I can even get up the door opens and Miley shyly enters with flushed cheeks from the winter wind. Oh, silly me, that's why I'm here. I don't need my old Friday rituals- I've got Miley now. And it is bliss.

She places her books down with a thud on my desk and we smile. I'm not sure how it started, these after school study sessions. It was just always expected. I would go to her house and she would come to mine. But normally hers, I hate having Miley see my dysfunctional and broken family.

(Oh boy! Look there's Mommy Dearest cheating on my drunkard father!)

"I think Mr. Gunter will be the death of me." Miley smiles taking a seat on the edge of my bed. "That upcoming test looks impossible!"

I nod and roll my eyes, "Tell me about it! But that poem by… by that Bryant guy? It was really good."

"You mean _Thanatopsis_?" Miley asks.

I snap my fingers. "Yeah! That one!"

"I liked it too." She smiles, showing a few of her white teeth. "Have you read the poem we're supposed to make notes on? The one by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow?"

"No." I reply while shaking my head.

"Well it was beautiful." Miley says with dreamy eyes.

"Read it to me."

She shuffles through her bag and pulls out our thick literature book and flips a few pages and then…

"_The tide rises, the tide falls,  
The twilight darkens, the curlew calls;  
Along the sea-sands damp and brown  
The traveler hastens toward the town,  
And the tide rises, the tide falls.  
Darkness settles on roofs and walls,  
But the sea, the sea in darkness calls;  
The little waves, with their soft, white hands  
Efface the footprints in the sands,  
And the tide rises, the tide falls.  
The morning breaks; the steeds in their stalls  
Stamp and neigh, as the hostler calls;  
The day returns, but nevermore  
Returns the traveler to the shore.  
And the tide rises, the tide falls._"

Miley has the perfect reading voice. Poems are meant to be read slowly and carefully and Miley does its justice. Her lips are hypnotizing as she speaks her voice is my warm cocoon. I hear the waves washing in and out. I picture Miley on the beach back in her Los Angeles hometown. I see her as a small child running along the wet sand with a gleeful smile that lights her blue eyes. I don't realize it, not till she's finished with the poem and closing the book that my eyes are watering.

But not crying. I run my sleeve over my eyes and smile. Miley and I lock gazes. She is not backing away this time. No more uneasy smiles. I know her secrets and she knows mine. Our foundation of friendship is built. I'm ready, I'm ready to let her in and see all of me.

No more hesitation no more doubts. Suddenly I'm aware of the distances between us. I'm leaning forward in my chair Miley is relaxing on my bed. Her hair is up in a loose bun today and her legs are crossed casually. We are fairly close. We're at a friendly distance. Close, but not too close.

I tend to act on impulses. I tend not to think logically when I want something. I could say it is my greatest flaw- focusing on one thing till it's mine. But I like to say it is an attractive quality. I like to call it determination.

So, my determination leads me to her lips.

Hands down at my sides my lips softly brush hers. I faintly taste raspberries. I push in a little harder. Miley is not moving. No blinking, her eyes are open. This is not what is supposed to happen. Miley is supposed to melt into my arms and kiss me back. Then, we are supposed fall back on my bed and I make her feel like a goddess, like a queen amongst I- her faithful servant.

It is not supposed to be like this.

I pull back. Miley blinks once… twice.

Fuck… fuck… FUCK! What the fuck was I thinking! I jump back and my breathing becomes irregular. She looks horrified. Her eyes dart around the room and suddenly she morphs back into the scared little deer she once was.

I practically jumped her! I basically took advantage of her! _Ohgodohgodohgod_! I wonder if that's how she was with the monster. After her kicking and cries of help become raw and useless… did she just lay there with her eyes shut, hoping it would be over soon? I'm just as bad.

I should have backed off. Her last relationship was with a… a rapist (yes, that word and the knowledge of someone handling her that way still makes my stomach turn and anger flare.)

"I'm s-sorry Miley that was…. So inappropriate."

She looks shocked.

"Say something, please. I'm sorry, so sorry." I think my heart is going to explode. My mouth is dry and there is a stinging and burning feeling coming from my face. Embarrassed I hang my head and let my body feel heavy and sad.

"I have to…go?" She walks away taking her things with her. Quick clumsy moments, very much unlike the graceful ballerina I know her to be.

The door closes softly behind her.

I need a cigarette.

…..

Its cold as shit outside today. I'm huddled up on my deck sitting on the wooden steps. No one is home, again.

I always feel like Captain Beatty from the Ray Bradbury novel _Fahrenheit 451_ when I'm lighting a cigarette. After the third or fourth drag I'm ready for someone, preferably a wide-eyed innocent someone, to come in and help me burn. Sometimes I flirt with the idea, to _burn_.To feel that fire take my skin. To know that kind of physically pain.

No, I don't cut.

No, I don't starve myself.

I burn.

I light fires and laugh a wild devilish laugh and watch as my skin folds up like paper. It curls and turns an ugly black.

I wonder what would happen if I told anyone about these daydreams? A nice tight straightjacket. A good shot that will make my mind slow down.

Is that how Nate felt?

I wonder, is it possible for twins to have the same train of thought? I thought about that a lot after he died. Maybe I'm slowly going mad. I remember watching Nate slowly deteriorate before my very eyes. I watched him those nights after our parents turned out the lights.

He would whimper in his sleep.

He would kick off the sheets and fight invisible monsters.

I pull the cigarette away from me and blow out. I deserve to burn. Maybe that's how Miley felt after her rape, after the abortion.

I'm laughing now. Maybe it's the smoking but really, I think it's the light bulb that just shot up above me.

We're all connected.

"Lily?"

I turn my head slowly; I already know who it is.

"I thought you stopped smoking." She says walking over to me slowly her hands in her jacket pockets.

"Yeah well I needed something after today." I bring the magic stick to my lips and close my eyes. And then, there is a release.

"I wish you wouldn't do that." She whispers.

"I didn't ask for your opinion." I snap wiping my head around to glare at her. I'm not sure why, but I'm suddenly really, really pissed at her. "How the hell did you get in here anyways?"

"The door was unlocked I just thought…"

"You just thought you'd walk into someone's house uninvited?" I hiss.

Miley looks down, embarrassed. "I'm sorry." She whispers so softly.

And now I'm angry at myself. She didn't do anything wrong. I have no right to act like jerk to her.

"Can I sit?" She asks.

"Sure." I sigh moving over as she settles down next to me on the wooden step. I flick my cigarette bud away from us because the look on Miley's face clearly reads disgust when it comes to my smoking habits.

"About what happened…?" Whoa! It surprises me how fast Miley just jumped right in. I don't speak and let her continue. "I just want you to know that it's okay."

Oh Jesus here it comes… here comes the pity speech. I hold in a breath, I wonder how long it would take. I wish I hadn't thrown away that cigarette. I shut my eyes.

"Miley, please spare me, okay? Just leave me alone. You don't have to explain. You don't have to act sympathetic, alright? And on Monday I promise I'll leave you alone." I state hardly folding my arms over my chest.

"But I want you to understand, Lily… I want to still be your friend… but, but I'm not... I'm not gay."

It's funny the way she says it. The way her lips move around the word gay. It seems to mean that she's saying to more to herself then to me, the one sitting next to her. It hurts. I'm not going to try and cover it up. My heart, well it falls. I can't tell if it's still beating and I don't care. Because this hurts like hell.

I nod; I don't say anything because I can't really speak. If I open my mouth I'm scared it will all come tumbling out. I would be opening a can of worms if I do that and I will just cry and cry and beg her to please (please!) take me.

"Do you think we can still be friends?" She is so good at this, acting completely normal after a completely un-normal thing has just happened. Her voice is so gentle is coxes me out of silence.

"Do you?" I say shakily, but trying to pull off a quiet laugh- I fail. "I mean knowing how I f-feel for you?"

"How do you feel?" Her eyebrows rise and I'm now confused. I kissed her; doesn't that usually tell how you feel for someone? I've never been able to say my emotions. It's so much easier with actions.

"I… you know how I feel Miley let's not get into this, okay?" I beg her. She nods.

"I want to be friends with you Lily. I don't care about anything else."

So it's settled.

I will pin and love her forever and she will go on living and being happy and then one day fall for a stupid boy and leave me.

Great.

"Sure, let's be friends."

…..

_December 12, 2011- Journal Entry #50_

"Nothing takes the taste out of peanut butter quite like unrequited love." –Charlie Brown.

_Is it possible, please answer this one Mr. Gunter, to die of a broken and trampled on heart? I think so. _

_There always is a sickening feeling in my gut. A sharp tinge and turn of my stomach when this person, my never-to-be- lover, walks by. I'm a wreak, a slop of the person I once was. Am I being a little overly dramatic? Hell yes I' am! But when you find someone, when you open your heart-_

_(And let me tell you, opening your heart is one hard and tedious task to do. Especially when your heat looks like mine- a black hole.)_

_But when it happens- there is bliss, pure untamed bliss that lights a fire to your soul! It springs new shades of sunflower yellow into your once dreary and gray world!_

_And I have lost it. _

_Ciao._

…

**Author's Note: **Sorry for the wait. I had many things to do that I have been neglecting for a while now. But I'm back and hopefully you are ready for a little Miley/Lily rollercoaster of confusion. Leave your thoughts.


	18. Tag! You're It!

Jellybeans are my sad food. Partly because when I get down trotted I can hardly keep anything down in my stomach. Chocolate does nothing ice cream is too cold. But jellybeans are small and a surprise with every mouthful.

I'm sitting in my bed, sheets thrown aside falling onto the floor. My TV is playing the movie Serendipity starring John Cusack and Kate Beckinsale over and over. A bag of jellybeans is torn open and already half empty. I sit in Indian style wearing the same clothes as yesterday as I watch John Cusack sit in his taxi cab looking sad.

Sighing I shove five more candy pieces into my mouth and sniffle loudly. It's not fair, why am I the one sitting alone and being depressed? I should go out and act perfectly fine just to smite her! No, no this is easier. Feeling sorry for myself is much, much easier then looking at her. Seeing what I can't have.

There's a knock on the door. "Honey?"

Christ, the last thing I want to do is see my mother. If my parents weren't home I'd be smoking straight through a pack or two.

"Yes." I sigh putting the movie on pause. She opens the door and smiles. She's not wearing work clothes or a slutty outfit in hopes of seeing the doctor later today. Instead she's wearing a rather normal at home kind of outfit. Like the clothes she used to wear on Sundays with me and Nate when we would play scrabble.

"You want to go to the store with me?" She asks still holding the doorknob.

Why in god's name would I want to go anywhere with her? We have barely made eye contact in the last two weeks. A very small part of me cries out that maybe she's trying to reconnect. Like old times.

Old times… four years ago I would have jumped up immediately and we would laugh and sing with the radio as she drove. Why do things have to change? By not answering my own question I get up and agree to go. Maybe all I need is some time to get Miley off my mind.

The car ride is quiet. The radio is on, but very softly. I look out the window at the world spinning by. My mother focuses on the road. "There is a reason I asked you to come out with me today… it's about me and your father."

Holy shit! Holy shit, this can not end well. I've been waiting a year for this conversation. The conversation to end all conversations.

"You're getting a divorce!" I scream, already passed mad mode and sky rocketed into total freak out.

"What?!" My mother yells back turning to look at me then turning back to the road. "No! No." She pulls into the grocery parking lot and stops the car. She puts her hands in her lap. "Lily, things haven't been going well for a long time, I'm sure you've noticed."

Ha-ha, that was an understatement but to humor her I nod and let her continue. She focuses in on me like she used to when she loved me and I was not her lesbian daughter. Back when she was proud of me.

"I just… I just want to say that we never talked about what happened… and it was hard and unfair on you." She whispers.

It's hard for both my parents to talk about Nate. I can remember after the funeral I _wanted _to talk about him remember him. But everyone kept pushing that subject away. They said it wasn't right. My mother cried. My father drank.

Their boy was dead. Their perfect son killed himself. The popular question was- why?

We don't know, we'll never know.

I liked to say life came too fast and bite in too hard for Nate. He had anxiety attacks sometimes. It was scary, for me- the one who had to comfort him. My parents didn't know about those nights he threw up, cried, and become a ghost of the human he once was. It was scary because, I had no one to tell, to confront.

I'm always alone.

"I know I can never do anything to regain your trust back Lily. You're my daughter and… and I love you so much. But I just… it's going to be hard, getting back to where we were." She says, looking like she might cry.

I, boldly, push down my anger and sigh out slowly. "Well, maybe we don't have to go back to where we were. Maybe we could get to a new place. A redo, you know, start over... Hi I'm Lily." I smile and hold out my hand.

She laughs weakly and shakes my hand. "It's lovely to meet you Lily."

"Like wise."

…..

"So what do you want to do tonight?" I adjust the phone from under my cheek and hold it pressed against my ear. I hear Oliver making clicking noises with his tongue as he thinks.

"How about a movie! We could invite Miley with us!"

"Or," I say picking up my bags of jellybeans, "We could _not _invite Miley."

Oliver groans. "Now what happened?"

"I sort of kissed her." I breathe out quickly.

"Jesus! Lily! … Well what happened?" He asks after a moment. I frown and collapse back on my bed with a thud.

"She wants to _just be friends_." I snap angrily.

"Are you okay?" Oliver wonders softly.

"… No, I'm really not Oliver. I just… I really like her, you know? I haven't really looked at anyone since well, Lauren. Sure there was Mary but she was more for me to get all my pent up anger out on… not that she minded." I add with a weak smile and chuckle.

I hear Oliver give a laugh and then his voice switches back to serious friend mode. "Well, at least she still wants to be with you."

"But that's worse! What if she meets someone? I don't think I'll be able to watch her be with some jackass, some… some _guy_." I say in disgust.

"Hey! I'm a guy!" Oliver protests.

I snort. "Oliver, please, you're like a gay best friend."

There's a brief pause on Oliver's part. "You do realize what you just said, right?" Oliver laughs.

"What? … Oh shit."

…..

How did I get here?

Chest pressed against my thighs I stare down at the bathroom tile. The toilet seat is cold on my bare ass and I sigh feeling my heart race in my ribcage. I close my eyes and let the movie theater bathroom smell take me.

Ew, smelly.

But how did I get like this?

We were just going to a fucking movie. It was Oliver, Sarah, Craig, Craig's new girlfriend Jamie, and then Kyle- the asshole friend of Craig I told him not to invite. But when is the last time anyone has listened to me.

Miley was invited, much to my dismay. But Oliver was driving so I had to listen. It started out fine. I had a brief panic attack when her foot brushed mine in the back seat of Oliver's mom's mini van. But other then that I was as normal as I can be.

And then Kyle touched her.

He put his hand on the small of her back and she backed away. I sprang to her rescue.

"Back off!" I said.

Kyle made his stupid cocky smirk and replied with, "Still the butch, right? Is she your new girlfriend Lily?"

Miley blushed and I shook my head and well… here I' am.

The door opens with a loud unpleasant creak and I close my eyes again and try to disappear.

"Lily? Are you in here?"

Fuck. I open my eyes and stand, pull up my underwear and pants and flush the toilet even though I didn't use it. I open the stall and put on a big fake smile.

"Hey buddy!" I say walking to the sink and washing my hands (the soap is blue.)

As I dry my hands Miley gives me a weird look. "Are you alright?"

"I should ask you the same question."

She shrugs and stares at her feet. I fight the urge to brush the locks of brown hair that cover her face away. "Kyle is an idiot. I'm sorry, I should have warned you." I tell her with a sad frown.

"I just need to pretend to be normal tonight." She says. "I can't deal with it right now." She breathes out and then meets my eye. "Now, are you alright?"

"I'm good if you are." I smile.

I wish you were mine Miley. If you were my girlfriend I would hug and kiss away all your pain.

But I'm not. (I'm not.)

…..

Round two.

It's Monday. I hate Mondays. They have to the longest days of the week. But I'm here, well physically I'm here. Mentally I've jumped the crazy train and I'm speeding past semi-sane right into complete madness.

Why? Because I want to touch her.

Stupid, yes, but the need the deep burning desire that lingers in my gut and in the tips of my fingers is really getting annoying. She looks good enough to eat. Yes, that's it; I want to bite into her shoulder. I want to nibble naughtily on her ear. I want to-

"Lily!"

I jump. "Shit!"

"Boy, you're jumpy." Sarah giggles placing her lunch tray down and combing through her long hair with her fingers. "Have you seen Oliver?"

"No." I grumble.

"Well have you seen Miley?"

"Why would I know where Miley is?!" I bark angrily. "It's not like I'm her fucking keeper!" I seethe gripping my plastic fork a little too tight because just as Sarah opens her mouth to reply is breaks in half.

"Man Lily, what crawled up your butt and died?" Sarah asks, obviously hurt.

"Oh, don't you know Sarah my love, that's just Lily's charming nature!" Oliver laughs coming up from behind me and sitting with Sarah but not before giving her kiss on the cheek and me a soft 'I'm sorry I hope everything turns out okay' smile.

"But you seem worse then usual." Sarah remarks and then places her hand on mine. "Is everything okay at home?"

I violently pull my hand back and sneer. "Everything's just peachy!"

"Lily." Oliver wars while narrowing his eyes.

"I'm sorry." I'm mutter.

"It's perfectly fine." Sarah chirps happily. "No harm done… but I think you need a boyfriend I mean girlfriend." She says quickly covering up her mistake. "What do you think Oliver? I think it's about time Lily got back on the horse."

"What horse?" I ask.

"You know… the horse!" Sarah explains badly. "It's a metaphor for… for… dating? Oh okay scratch that you need a girlfriend." Sarah laughs carefully sipping her soup.

"Or," I smile saying the word sarcastically, "I need a shit load of pot. That outta make me perky!"

"I give up!" Sarah frowns.

"Join the club." I sigh.

"Hey… where's Miley?" Oliver asks looking around the cafeteria.

…..

Miley is in the park. She skipped school today. She is on the swings pumping her legs back and fourth slowly. She throws her head back and stares at the sky as the swing gets up, higher and higher. She can't see me. I don't want her to know I'm here yet. I like watching her sometimes. (That sounds a little stalkerish. Whatever.)

Winter is in full bloom. The trees are naked and the sky is a light shade of gray. I'm standing on the sideway on the other side of the road from the park. I'm trying to gather the courage to go over and have a descent conversation with her. One that doesn't end with my heart in my throat and the growing need to cry or throw up.

Okay on the count of three… one… two… (damn-it move feet move!) three! Nothing. I'm hiding. Oh fuck it. I stand up straighter and walk over.

"Hey!" I wave awkwardly. She stops swinging and pulls her head up.

"Hi."

Long pause.

"So, you pullin' a James Dean now? Too cool for school?" I ask laughing weakly while kicking up some of the wet mulch.

"I just needed a day to think." She says.

"Can I sit?" I point to the swing.

"Be my guest."

I sit down and wait. I'm waiting for the words I've been needing to say come out, but they don't. We just swing back and fourth out of order.

"Um… you remember at party a while ago when Janise asked you that question?" Miley asks timidly.

"You'll have to refresh my memory I don't recall any questions."

"That one… she asked you about… you asked you when you knew you were gay." Miley blurts out quickly.

Ah, now we're getting somewhere.

…

**Author's Note: **Another long wait, I know and I'm sorry. And I gave you another semi cliffhanger, sorry again. But… it will be good, hopefully. I haven't written the chapter yet but my imagination has run wild and I'm looking forward to seeing what you think. Thanksgiving break for me is coming up so I'll (hopefully) will be able to update faster. Leave your thoughts.

_**ANoRDaE: **_It is very hard for me to be patient and move slow with the characters. Several times I had to go back and re-write scenes because it was moving way too fast. But with this and next chapter things will start to pick up (thank god.)

_**hpfreak2008: **_I' am making it very difficult for them. (Which is fun for me sometimes.) But after all these obstacles it will make their "getting together" chapter all the more sweeter.

_**LillyReBelFan: **_Boys do indeed stink! Being a rather full blown feminist I sometimes put my angry into what Lily says about them.

_**Deka Lopez Granger: **_Yeah I did move quick with that but I always thought of Lily as a pusher- meaning she'll do whatever she wants when she wants to; and then expect everyone to move at that pace too. And also, I was getting a little restless with the non Miley/Lily action I was writing.

_**hermione032192: **_Aw shucks thanks! I will admit I put a little bit of my problems in that sentence.

_**Hads337: **_But the good kind of intensity, right?

_**tragicluv: **_Seriously, who doesn't just love Charlie Brown? He's my favorite cartoon strip. Most of the quotes I have Lily write are my favorite or ones I've read here and there.

Thank-you to everyone who commented it is much appreciated. (And makes me update faster- there's your hint.)


	19. The Fading Outline

_We are lying in her bed. I'm smiling like an idiot because she's half naked and grinning back at me. My breath is moving a little quicker. I'm caught up in her strong perfume and soft round curves. Outside it is raining. _

_We've ditched school for the second time this week. She twirls a strand of her dark red hair and then fumbles through her purse for something. She pulls out a cigarette and smiles her wicked little smile. _

"_You want one?" Her voice is nice and husky, that perfect blend of low and high. _

_I nod. I've never had a smoke before. She lights it and takes a drag before passing it to me. I hold it and look to her for guidance. _

"_Go on." She pushes. _

_I close my eyes and… I cough and cough. I have to sit up it's so bad. She laughs and gently rests a hand on my bare back. "Guess it's not for you huh?" She snickers. _

"_If you like it, I like it." I tell her leaning down and kissing her weak spot- the skin right above her breasts. _

"_You are a tease, Lillian." She purrs in my ear while digging her long nails into my hair. I hover over her and begin my travels, exploring her skin once again. She wraps her legs around my waist and pulls me much closer. I'm pressing into her in all the right places. _

"_Lauren?"_

"_Hum?" _

"_I think I love you." _

_She laughs throatily. "Way to ruin a moment Lillian." _

_I sigh into her neck. "It's just…" _

"_You don't love me, okay? You don't." She pushes me up. I meet her dark eyes. "You understand?" _

"_Sure." _

"_Good." She smirks. "Now do that thing you did earlier, it was heaven." _

…..

"Lily?"

I open my eyes and take note of my surroundings. The park, I'm in the park with Miley.

"You okay?" She asks placing her small cool hand on mine.

I don't want her to touch me right now so I pull away slowly. "I'm sorry I just… memories, you know?"

She nods.

Suddenly I smile and turn to her. "Now, about your question?"

Miley blushes. "I'm just… intrigued, you could say about sexually orientation… my friend Dillon called last night. He's having trouble deciding who he is."

Oh, of course. Miley isn't confused her friend is, I'm so stupid!

"So why talk to me." I ask turning from her.

Miley tucks a strand of her hair behind her ear and kicks around the mulch. "I'm sad for him. We took ballet together and-"

"Hold the phone!" I laugh. "Ballet? Miley if he's in ballet that should be a _huge _sign."

"Not all boy ballerinas are gay." Miley frowns angrily. "Dillon and I use to go out for your information."

"Oh so you turned him gay?" I say pointing to her.

"What? No!" Miley shouts.

"Hey, hey I'm kidding Miley you gotta learn to chill." I say slouching into the swing.

"So?" She asks clearing impatient. "How did you know?"

I scratch behind my neck and shrug. "It's hard to say the exact moment I knew. Boys just… never interested me. I mean boys are fun to play sports with or video games but not dating."

Miley is staring intently at me. It's nice having her full attention but also a little intimating. There's just something about her eyes.

"I remember my old friends from middle school. Every day they sat drooling over some guy… and I just couldn't see what they saw. I know some people say it's just a phase but… that _phase _never went away."

"What about Oliver?"

"Oliver's Oliver. We've been through so much shit together. After Nate's death, me being a lesbian, his dad loosing his job and then starting over and don't get me started on my parents, I don't know, when I was dating him it was different. I _knew _him. We have this deep rooted friendship. But then I realized I just didn't like him that way, I found out I was gay."

"But _how_?" Miley insists.

"It's just a feeling. When you meet someone, you just know. Personally though, for me, I just think penises are gross." I joke good heartedly.

Miley bursts out in fits of laughter at this. "I can't believe you just said that!" She giggles.

"What?" I grin holding out my arms. "It's true! I remember in the locker rooms girls use to talk about giving their boyfriends blow jobs and I just thought that was the most _disgusting_ thing in the whole world. Who in the hell would want to do that?"

Miley throws her head back and laughs. Her mouth open and eyes closed, she holds her stomach. I've never seen her this way. She looks beautiful.

Miley wipes her eyes and smiles. "Okay, okay but seriously Lily, what next?"

"I met Lauren." I sigh looking at the dirt on my brown converse shoes.

"Who?"

"She's my ex girlfriend. I dated her my junior year. It's funny looking back, but as soon as I realized I was a lesbian I found her. She was a senior and I just… drowned in her. She was the girl you loved and hated at the same time." I look out at the horizon and smile.

"But Lauren never wanted a relationship. We… used one another. I thought it was something more then that but obviously I was wrong. For a short while she wanted to stay with me. Lauren wanted to try and love me but we just ended up tearing each other apart." I look back to the dirt and sigh out loudly. I feel Miley's hand on my knee.

"I'm sorry Lily. You don't deserve that." Miley whispers.

"But that's just it; I knew what I was getting myself into… anyway it doesn't matter. I'm over her."

Miley smiles. "Glad to here it… so… how did you… how did you come out?"

This gets me to chuckle. "I kind of blurted it out at dinner one night to my parents. My mother spit her wine across the table and my dad turned pale. It was hilarious. I just don't care what other think of me. It's never really bothered me, but I feel for the kids who can't just come out like I did."

"You're very brave." Miley says with a new emotion reaching her eyes but not her smile.

"Not really, just obnoxious." I grin.

"So that's it? Over time you just know?" Miley wonders thoughtfully, though still confused.

"For me? Yes. But people are all different. Sometimes you don't know you're gay… sometimes it takes another person to see that side of yourself." I say softly. "I'm sorry but there aren't any quizzes to take or magical people to talk too. And it's not a choice. I get so pissed at those people who say we choose to be this. We didn't. The only choice you have to make is whether you decide to truly be yourself or live in secret. It's not a matter of god or science… it's a matter of love."

My hands are in my lap. I lift my head and see Miley with convicted eyes staring back at me. "Anything else?" I ask.

Miley shakes her head.

"Awesome."

She laughs. "Way to ruin the moment Lily."

…..

Windows down hair blowing in the wind I fix my black sunglasses. It's in the middle of December but today the sun is shinning and the air is warm. Playing full blast on my radio is my old Moby CD singing _Porcelain_. So far my Christmas break as been boring as hell, I needed to get out today. The four walls of my room are going to slowly suffocate me if I don't.

My quest for today? Finding Miley the perfect Christmas present. I already have Oliver's gift I got it way back in October. I bought him a telescope. Apparently, Oliver is interested in space. I remember him telling me once when we were kids that he's always wanted to look at the stars close up.

I remember because we were outside. It was one of those clear nights where it felt like you could see the whole _fucking_ universe. I remember because it was the first time I felt truly small.

I want to give him that childhood dream. I want him to remember. Because it's never too late to have a happy childhood.

But then there's Miley. I just can't figure her out. I want to give her something thoughtful and something she'll love and cherish. I cut the engine and make my way into the bookstore. I made a list of the things I know Miley likes. It comes down to three things: Books, Ballet, and Edgar Degas. Some friend I' am.

I scan the shelves. I've been in this bookstore twice in all my years. The place might be small but it's loaded. I glance over the poetry section. Maybe Miley would like French poetry. I mean she's into the music.

André Breton's book of selected poems catches my eye. I read a few verses of him as a freshman. He's good, in that peculiar kind of I don't really get it but I get it kind of way. I pick up the red book and smile. I flip through it. I make sure no one is looking and I lean my nose close to the page to smell it.

Yummy, it smells like a good one. I hold it tighter but decide it would be better to keep looking before I rush into buying it. Walking passed another row of books I spot Miley. She looks frightened. I'm about to call out to her but then I see the genre of novels she's looking at.

In bold white letters above the shelf it reads: _Gay and Lesbian_. Miley is fingering through a book but her eyes dart around to make sure no one is looking. Something inside me twists up into a knot. But it's a good feeling; I think it can be described as hope. I clutch the poetry book to my chest and smile as I walk by.

…..

_December 24, 2011- Journal Entry #53_

"Christmas waves a magic wand over this world, and behold, everything is softer and more beautiful." -Norman Vincent Peale

_I love Christmas Eve. There's just this thrill, this excitement. The time right around Christmas is magical. Anything can happen. Suddenly the world is smiling kids are making snow angles and adults or teens are going home- their going home to be with loved ones. _

_And then it snows. Snow is the cure for any illness. It comes whenever I really need it. I wake up and there it is, falling softly from the sky onto my town. It calms me and I remember then, that this is why I'm still breathing. It's these snowy mornings and late afternoons that make the other restless days of the year worth while. _

_The tree is my favorite. I remember in years long past when Nate, me and my dad would put on the lights. My mother would make hot chocolate and after all was done we would sit, drink the coco, and admire our work. _

_We don't do that anymore. _

_Christmas gives me a bittersweet taste. Seeing those kids with their trees and happy carols. It makes me want to build a time machine. If I could I would go back. I would hug Nate more. Kiss my parents two times before bed and whisper my prays of happy days to come. _

_Why do we always have to learn things the hard way? _

_I think a nice tap on the shoulder from god, or whoever, would have sufficed. Don't you? It's not fair. Christmas was his favorite holiday along with mine. At night we would sleep in his bed all snuggled up and laugh till dawn. It's just not fair. _

_Nate deserved one last happy New Year. He deserved so much more. _

_(Don't tell anyone, but sometimes… sometimes I think it should have been me.) _

_Ciao_

…

**Author's Note: **Sorry, my computer has been acting funny the last few days. Anyway, Happy Thanksgiving and please, oh please, leave your thoughts…


	20. Harsh Meanderings

She's trying, I know this, but it doesn't mean I forgive her or trust her again. My mom and I still have awkward silences and stiff movements around each other. It's sad but it's a start. She hasn't gone off to the see the doctor in over a month. I'm proud of her, in a way. I'm proud to know she's trying. But it still hurts.

She's working on the crossword puzzle my dad is making coffee. Its Christmas morning, presents have already been exchanged. I'm leaning against the doorframe and I can't stop wondering, what would it be like if Nate were here? I guess it doesn't matter, why dwell on something that will only make me bitter.

…..

Oliver's father Raffaele is watching the weather channel as he paints a picture of a city skyline during a snow storm. His paintbrush rests in his mouth as he wipes his dirty hands off on a rag. Algeria is humming along with Italian opera in the kitchen as she washes the dishes.

Christmas dinner at Oliver's house is like heaven on earth. I sit sinking into their old couch with a full stomach and drooping eyes. I yawn and Oliver fiddles with the present I gave him. He reads the directions and smiles.

This is how Christmas should always be. An easy afternoon surrounded by people you love and love you back. I left my house before my dad could bring out the scotch or my mother could randomly decide she liked the doctor's embrace better then my father's. And like always, when I knocked on Oliver's front door he was there to offer a comforting smile and kiss on my cheek.

"Lily?"

I make an unintelligent grunt to have him know I'm still semi awake.

"This telescope… it means a lot. It means a lot knowing that you remembered." He whispers and although my eyes are closed I know he's sitting next to me with his warm brown eyes.

I open my eyes and smile sleepily at him. "You're welcome Oliver… now did your mom already wrap up the apple pie?"

…..

My boots crunch the snow. My keys are tucked in my pocket and her gift is wrapped in light blue paper, hidden behind my back. I see her sitting out on her front step the porch light on with a red mug in between her small hands.

It takes her a moment to finally see me. She looks surprised but not unhappy. She sets down her mug and gives me one of her dazzling smiles. "I come baring gifts." I laugh taking a seat next to her. She blushes and fumbles with her purple scarf.

"You… you got me a Christmas present?" She asks softly.

"Yes." I smile looking down at the neatly wrapped book in my lap. "…But why are you out here? It's late and freezing." I shiver and she moves in closer. I try not to do anything stupid to ruin the moment. Like put my arm around her or kiss her or well anything.

"It's snowing and it's Christmas it seemed… poetic in a sense. And besides I like it. The cold I mean. In California it's like seventy degrees for winter. I miss snow." Miley tells me staring down at her cup.

Not knowing what to say I hand over her gift. She hesitates and then takes it. "Wait. I got something for you too." She smiles getting up and running inside.

I rub my icy hands together and close my eyes. I hear the snow. Small individual flakes are flying on my eyelashes on my black coat. "Lily?"

I turn around and Mr. Stewart is smiling at me. He walks over and sits down next to me. "Miley should be down in a minute. She was really lookin' forward to givin' you her gift… Lily?"

"Yes Mr. Stewart?" Looking at him more close up I can see his whole face. I can really read his intentions. I see the wrinkles and traces of gray hairs but his eyes are forever young. I give him an encouraging smile.

"I just want you to know… I appreciate all that you've done for my little girl." He whispers.

"I didn't do anything." I laugh shrugging it off.

"Yes, you did." His voice is strong I don't want to disagree. "These past few weeks she's… changed my little girl smiled at me, a real smile. And Miley's talking, laughing… mostly about you." He chuckles.

I feel a hot blush creeping up my cheeks. She's talked about me! ME! I try to control my racing heart and fluttering stomach. "You're welcome Mr. Stewart."

"I found it!" Miley says running up from behind us, she's out of breath. "Sorry it took so long."

Mr. Stewart gives my shoulder a soft squeeze and then stands, kisses Miley's cheek and walks back inside. She sits where her father once sat holding a thin red wrapped present. She brushes her hair out of her face and I watch with a lump in my throat.

I can't get it out of my head- her flushed cheeks, long dark hair, and a smile that brightens this dark cold night. I just want to hold her.

"Here." I whisper through my pain. "Open mine first." She takes it, our fingers brush oh so lightly and suddenly I can't breathe.

She is careful in opening it. Miley finds where I used tape to close it and opens it from the end. She does not tare or rip her boney fingers are precise and slow. She holds out the book and sucks in a quick breath.

"Lily." She says in a loud whisper.

"You hate it?" I cringe looking down.

"No." Miley smiles brightly. "It's perfect. André Breton… god this is so weird." She looks to me and laughs slightly. "I lost this book when I moved here. I guess it got lost in all the confusion and… I didn't even tell you that and you bought this exact book." She clutches the small red book firmly and shakes her head.

"Here, before I say something stupid, open mine." She says giving it over. I take it and open it quicker then she did, less careful. It is a play- _Waiting for Godot_ by Samuel Beckett.

"I found it one afternoon flipping through the bookstore. I thought you might like it… maybe one day we could go see the play some time, if it comes to town… if you hate it it's perfectly fine. I just couldn't think of what to give you and-"

"Miley! It's wondeful, really, thank-you." I say sincerely taking her hand and giving it a tight squeeze.

The front door opens suddenly. "Miles! Phone's for you, it's Dillon." Mr. Stewart frowns handing it over looking concerned.

"Oh." Miley says looking awkwardly to the phone and me. "Lily come in and sit I'll be a few minutes."

And then she's gone. I look to the snow and then take up her empty mug and follow them both inside. Miley walks down another hallway and I sit on the couch. I crack open my book and begin reading the first act.

But as I turn the third page a small letter tumbles out and onto my lap.

"_Lily"_ is written in perfect cursive handwriting. Greedily I open the cream colored envelope and pull out the folded letter.

_December 23, 2011_

_Lily, _

_Do you think we're always waiting for something that will never come? Can it be taken into account that maybe we, as humans are meant for something far greater then- waiting…waiting…Waiting for love, or friendship, or even God. Aren't we allowed to chase dreams? _

_Sometimes I have these thoughts and I don't know where to put them. I tired putting them on pen and paper. But it only made me more restless. I like talking to you, but sometimes I become tongue tied. You make me feel- comfortable again. When I look to you I know you are not judging me on my mistakes. You're just seeing me._

_Does this sound ridiculous to you? Probably, but I wanted you to know, for all the times I do not speak; for all the times that I become flustered and unsure in your presences. I must have you know, you're friendship means the world to me. I know we don't know each other that well. But I feel like I do. I feel like I know you, really know you. I like this notion._

_So thank-you, thank-you for taking an interest in me when no one else would. I wish I could do something for you that would show, rather then tell how much I value your words and hugs of comfort and reassurances. _

_A Friend, Miley_

I fold the paper back. I put my hand over my heart and listen, because it's beating in slow motion, because that is where she touches me- oh so very deeply. I'm scared. She's making me feel different things and I have a feeling I'm in for a crash landing when it comes to the lovely Miss. Miley Stewart.

She makes me… warm. She makes-

"Hey. I'm sorry about the wait. Dillon can get really long winded." She smiles and takes a seat next to me. "Would you like something to drink preferably something hot?"

"No thanks." I whisper still in a haze from her letter.

"Well your nose tends to disagree there Rudolf." Miley giggles pointing to my nose. I blush because I can imagine it being a bright red.

"Come on Lily, I don't want you to get a cold." Miley warns lightly.

"Yeah, okay _mom_." I laugh but catching a ghostly cringe appear on Miley's once happy features. "Oh shit, shit! Miley I'm so-"

She holds up a hand to stop me. "It's alright Lily I've got to learn not to be so sensitive." She gets up and leaves me, walking into the kitchen. I slam my book against my forehead and groan. Dumbass.

She takes a while getting my drink together but when she finally appears I give her a happy smile and move over to let her sit. I take the blue mug and take a long sip. The hot chocolate is just what I needed. It burns all the way down but it feels so good.

"So what did Dillon want?" I ask trying to break the silence.

She smiles weakly. "Dillon has a boyfriend now, he was really excited. I'm happy for him."

"But?" I ask sensing her melancholy tone.

"I just… miss him. Dillon and I are very close and it's hard not having him, that comfort, around." Miley whispers staring at her hands. I boldly place my hand on hers and shiver at the warmth it has compared to my cold ones. "But," Miley grins, "It's nice having you around."

She puts her hand on top of mine and I can't take it. I can't be her friend. I pull myself away from her. "Miley… I'm sorry."

"What? Why?"

"I can't do this… it's too hard." I say in a husky whisper. I mean everything I say, for once. I can't keep having her touch me or talk to me the way she does.

"I don't think I follow… you don't want to be my friend anymore?" She sounds so small her lips scrunch up and her eyes widen.

"No." I shake my head. "I don't want to be your friend."

"W-Why?"

I feel like such an asshole. "Miley, have you ever been friends with a _lesbian_?"

"Lily, I thought we went over this. I'm not homophobic I'm perfectly fine with being your friend. Dillon is gay; I mean I know many boys who are-"

I shake my head and hold up my hands. "I didn't ask about boys… I mean _girls, _lesbians. It's not about your problem it's mine."

Miley's eyes cloud over. "Lily I don't…. oh." She looks embarrassed and stares at the hardwood floor. "I thought you were over that."

"Well I'm not." I snap. I see her flinch and I quickly soften. "I'm sorry. Miley I just…" I trail off and close my eyes, frustrated. I clench my fists together and bite down hard. Why is this so fucked up? For once I wonder why I can't just like boys. Why can't I be that friend she needs right now?

"But… but," Miley takes my hands and I unclench them, "I want to be friends… I can't loose you."

I open my eyes and see her staring at me so close so fiercely. Her eyes are a thick smoky navy. I'm so hypnotized by her eyes I think I would do anything she wanted me too right now, but I have to be strong.

"Why were you in the bookstore last week?" I ask my face stone.

"Huh?"

"Why were you in the gay section of the bookstore?" I ask again.

"I… I." Miley lets go of my hands. "It was for Dillon… I don't get you right now Lily. A straight person can't be interested in different sexualities?" She frowns.

"Sure they can… but I don't believe you." My voice is hard. I want to know, I have to know. We are so close it's like the bright headlights of a train right before it crashes. The engine is screaming and grinding against the railway. The steam is rising along with the heat.

I lick my lips. "Miley." I whispers. "Please tell me… or am I just seeing things, making things up? I just need the truth."

She shuts her eyes tightly. "I don't have time for this… I don't need this not after…" Her eyes open and there are traces of tears lining her eyes.

"It's not a big deal…" I say softly leaning close to her, my hand out and reaching for hers.

"Yes it is."

I frown and groan angrily. "This isn't a fucking Disney movie, okay? I know when your little they brainwash you into thinking every girl grows up gets married, lives in a house with a picket fence and two kids. Oh and wait, don't forget the golden retriever." I sneer pulling away and leaning into her couch. "But guess what? Sometimes things change. Except it Miley, you're not normal."

"Shut-up!" She hisses hotly. "Shut-up! I don't need this, I do _not_ need this. I can't handle anymore life alternating experiences. Maybe you're fine with liking girls but I'm not!"

_KA-BOOM_! The train has crashed.

…

**Author's Note: **As always sorry for the wait. I had trouble with this chapter. I couldn't decide what I wanted to do. But don't worry Miley suddenly being gay won't be random, it will be explained. Anyway, I hope everyone has a pleasant Thanksgiving and please- Leave your thoughts.


	21. Burn It Down

_Her hand is on my shoulder. _

"_Come on Lillian don't make this any harder then it has to be." She says with false sympathy. _

_I'm not focusing all that well. I shrug her hand off and light up the third cigarette I've had today. _

"_The silent treatment? Yeah that's mature. Listen, it's over it has for a long time now. You just choose not to see it. Now, I've got a bus to catch and you have a show to do. So…" She stops and leans in, kisses my cheek._

_Her lipstick burns my flesh. It sizzles under her hot lips. I'm sure it's burned into my skin, a mark that I will bare forever. She pulls back I rub my cheek searching for the scare- nothing. _

_She sighs. "Can you at least say something? I know it's hard… I know I was your first girlfriend but it was never meant to last. I'm not good for you Lillian." _

"_I know." I whisper. "But that doesn't mean I won't miss you." _

_She leaves me standing back stage in the dim light. She waves and I watch her go, because I think that's what I was meant to do- ever since the first day we met, the first day we shook hands, or had sex. _

_Her long red hair, her raspy morning voice, that's what I'll crave. _

_I close my eyes and wait to be called to the stage with my band. I'll play for her tonight and forget all about it. I don't need her. I don't love her, but I'll miss her. Because if I didn't miss her it would mean this whole year meant nothing, and it didn't. It was something. It was me coming to terms with the fact that- yes, I' am a lesbian and I'm proud to be so. _

…..

I'm lying in my bed trying to figure out where I went wrong. Miley kicked me out. She wiped her eyes and told me to go. I went because I had nothing to say. I've told her how I feel. I've kissed her for Christ's sake so now the ball is in her court.

But that doesn't mean I don't want to help, because I do. I want to comb through her long curly hair and tell her in my softest voice that everything will be alright- just let me love you, that's what I should have said- just let me love you.

But I didn't, instead I drove home read her book and now I'm watching the snow, all alone.

…..

_January 3, 2011- Journal Entry # 60_

_DO NOT READ Mr. Gunter or suffer the consequences! _

"When there is nothing left to burn, you have to set yourself on fire." –The Stars.

_When she looks at me I'm on fire. I crumble to a million pieces and become something greater and better. I'm less of a person and more of a burning flame- and I burn for her and only her. But when she turns me away I become nothing short of a raging monster. I'm no longer a comfort, I' am the animal, the fire that burns down cites, forests. _

_It's scary; I'm standing on the edge of the old me and the new version of myself. It's a dive; it's always a jump- a leap of faith. But I've been falling my whole life. One let down after another. I want her to be the one that catches me and firmly plants my feet to the green earth. _

_But I think I have to catch her fist, save her from the demons and nightmares… but I don't know how, I've never saved anyone before. I want her to be the one that melts my heart, the one that finds my heart in this dark mess. I'm ready, ready to love her. Is she? _

_Ciao. _

…..

"You look terrible."

Rolling my eyes I sigh and snap back with, "Gee thanks, Oliver."

He rubs his forehead and shakes his head. "Not like that… it's just you didn't call me after going to Miley's, and it's been two days, did something happen?"

"Why would you think something bad happened? Did you ever think that maybe, just maybe I didn't want to call you?!" I scream throwing down my music folder.

Oliver looks taken back he walks away holding out his hands in defense. "Jesus… Lily what's going on? We don't fight, we never fight."

"I-I d-don't know." I shrink back into the corner of the garage. I place my head in my hands and sniffle. "She makes me _crazy_."

I haven't heard from her in two days. For those two days I've been reduced to waiting by the phone or hanging around the playground just hoping she'd show up. I'm too much of a coward to confront her myself.

Oliver frowns and places his base down next to me. "Listen Lily, it's going to be okay."

"How do you know? How can you possibly know?"

"Because, I'm not stupid, alright? Miley will come to her senses and realize that she wants you." He assures me with a tight hug. "I see it Lily, it's there."

"Where? Where can you see it? Because I sure as hell can't."

"Her eyes."

…..

Frantically I brush my teeth. Last night the power went out fucking up my alarm clock which means I'm officially late for school. No one is home as I race down the stairs holding my black converse shoes. Once they are tied I grab my keys and sprint to Ernie.

The air is so cold and burns my face as I start up the car. Erin is good this morning and makes not a peep as I exceed the speed limit to school.

"You are late." Oliver says pointing a finger at me as Sarah digs through her locker. "You missed first period… again."

"Yeah, yeah blow it out your ass Oken." I growl stuffing my hands in my jean pockets and slouching against the lockers.

The warning bell for second period rings and I slowly make my way to class. Why is school _so_ boring? Seriously, I think some scientist should do a study on this prison. I mean it's like teachers don't fully realize that we have lives outside of this stone wall hell.

I'm sitting in Mr. Gunter's class now. It's weird being the first one to entire the classroom.

"Good afternoon, Lily." He says filing a paper and turning to me. "I'm pleased to say your grades have improved in my class, at least to a passing standard. But, I know you can do so much more then this. What are your plans for the future?"

Uh, get the hell out of this town, keep my head above the water of suck ass adult life, and try not to breakdown. I shrug and take my seat in the back row of the class.

Mr. Gunter sighs angrily, "Have you considered a career in creative writing?"

Huh?

He smiles at my confused expression. A few students begin to file in. "Talk to me after class." He says.

I nod and then, I lose my breath. Miley walks in holding her books looking slightly frazzled. She sits in her usual seat, the one next to mine. We don't make eye contact… or rather she's staring at her feet and I'm trying my best not to stare at her, or yell at her, or worse, kiss her.

…..

Miley runs out of class before I can even stand up after the bell rings. Mr. Gunter calls me to his desk and smiles.

"You could be an exceptional writer Lily, I see potentional in your papers and journal entries- the ones you let me read. If you can pass this class with a B average I would happily write you a recommendation letter for college."

Mouth open with shock, I gape at Mr. Gunter. "Are you serious?"

"It'll be hard Lily, but I believe in you."

It's funny; I don't think I've ever heard anyone say that to me before.

Skipping, yes skipping, to my lame ass study hall I whistle a tune and bob my head. College? Creative Writing? Hell yeah! It's weird, I mean I knew I would go to a university… or okay so I never really thought about it. I've sent in all my paper work (because my parents were on my ass all last year to get it taken care of) but no one ever told me I had potentional to actually exceed. No one ever said I'd get in.

Having an idea of what to do with your life can sure make you giddy! I smile and wave to Oliver as he walks to physics. He seems to be suspicious of my happy mood but shakes it off well and returns the gesture.

Ah, finally a light at the end of this dark tunnel.

…..

"I think you should talk to her."

"You're kidding, right?"

"Lily." Oliver whines in frustration.

"Oliver." I mock, matching his tone. As silence takes us I adjust the position of the phone on my ear. I move from lying on my bed to sitting in my desk chair so I can examine the hang nail on my big toe.

"I mean it; I don't think she will ever come to you. You're brave, now go got your girl, Lily! I'm tired of you two moping around, you want something so get it!" Oliver yells from the other line.

And I don't know, something about his voice, or the way I'm picturing his face all scrunched up and serious, everything just clicked- it's just so simple- go get what you want.

"I gotta go, Oliver." I reply hastily and hang up. Quickly I slip into a pair of brown converse, not bothering with socks and sprint downstairs. My dad is sitting in the den reading his old copy of War and Peace.

"I'm heading out." I tell him while tying my frizzle hair into a bun. "I'll be back later tonight, is that okay?"

He looks up at me with a stone face and nods and then, I'm gone, out the door racing to get her- to get what I need and crave.

…..

It's really, really funny, no take my word for it, it is. It's funny when you have somewhere very important to be and someone very important to see that the traffic is total shit. I'm so far backed up that I can't see anything but a dark sea of endless cars. I check my watch.

"Fuck, come on!" I scream slamming my hands on the steering wheel. I turn up the radio a littler more. I don't know what is playing but it is fast paced and screaming nice and loud.

A moment later I see an exit, taking it with great haste I speed down a back road with my heart racing and blood boiling. I'm going to take a chance, I'm going to find Miley and make her talk to me, or at least reason with me.

……

Pulling into her driveway I shut off the engine and take in several large deep breaths. "I can do this. I can totally, defiantly, absolutely, do this…. Okay break!" I say clapping my hands after a brief pep talk.

I knock twice and wait by rolling back on the balls of my feet. My palms are sweating my skin is hot. Why am I so nervous? How can she do this to me when I'm not even standing next to her? It's like she has this force over me or-

"Lily!"

It's her dad, smile, smile! I give a grin. "Is Miley home, Mr. Stewart?"

"Yeah." He beckons me inside. "She should be right up in her room, you go ahead." He points to the stairs.

I thank him and jog up the stairs while trying not to faint. Miley's door is open. Her back is to me. I take note of her posture, slightly bent over cradling an acoustic guitar. Miley's hair is down, full and curled in all its glory. She's strumming a collection of notes on the guitar and humming softly.

I don't think I have ever seen anything more beautiful.

I lean against the door; do I really want to disturb her? Wreck this poetic scene? But my conflicted thoughts are interrupted, she begins to sing. I imagine her eyes to be closed as she strums a litter harder with a new variety of notes.

Miley's voice is like milk- thick and pure. Her voice is low with just the perfect mix of raspy. Oh dear god, if I could I would stay right here and never leave her heavenly presences. I want to always have that voice with me, no matter where I go.

I let my eyes close. Because any good song can have that calming effect on you, the kind of persuasion that lulls you into a child-like state of mind. The one that chases all the bad dreams away. Oh god Miley, her voice is pained, a humble plea. Oh god Miley why can't you let me answer that cry?

The music stops. "Lily!"

My eyes snap to her attention. "I'm sorry." I tell her quickly ducking my head, embarrassed. "I was entranced."

Her cheeks grow red. "What are you doing here?"

"Can I come in?" I ask ignoring her question. Miley nods her face beat red and hands nervously fiddle with the guitar strings.

I walk in swiftly and take a seat at her chair by the desk. "I needed to see you; we haven't spoken in three days."

"Four days." She says hastily, after realizing what she said Miley shakes her head and frowns. "Sorry, finish what you were going to say."

I let a very tiny smile slide it's away across my lips before continuing. "What's going through that head? Why are you avoiding me?"

She sets the guitar down and claps her hands together. "I'm scared." She whispers.

"Of me?"

"No, me… I'm scared of myself."

"Why?" I'm looking into her eyes trying to find the spark Oliver said there was, but she is staring at the ground and I can't read her this way.

"Can't we just let it all go? Why do we have to question every little thing, Lily?"

"Because, I want you, Miley and I think you want me too and unless you look me straight in the eye and tell me that you never want to see me again, then I'm just going to keep coming back."

Miley's bottom lip trembles and her eyes meet mine. There it is a soft glow around her blue orbs, beautiful.

"I think… I think I want you too." She whimpers, letting one tear fall. "But I'm so confused, Lily. I don't un-understand." Her gaze drifts quickly to the floor.

I stand and walk closer to her. "Do you mean it?" I ask her softly.

"Yes… I look at you and see someone who has never turned me away, even after I told you… after I told about everything. You stayed. I look at you and I see someone who I could… could l-love."

I feel myself shiver. "Can I hold you?" I want her permission. I don't want to scare her. Miley stands and wraps her arms around me.

"I'm scared." She whispers in my ear.

"I know, but I promise to never make you feel uncomfortable, we'll go slow okay? This is new to you, I know."

She's holding onto me so tight. My hands are pressing into her back as her face presses into my shoulder. And now I know what it feels like to be whole.

…

**Author's Note: **Rushed? Yes. Needed to move the storyline along? I certainly think so. I'm sorry that I've been away. A good friend of mine had a slight breakdown and I needed to be there for her (Mr. Fishy to the rescue! Never underestimate the power of an afternoon sitting on the swings and pouring out your heart and soul.) Leave your thoughts.


	22. A Way To See You

Rain is falling. My windshield wipers are swooshing back and fourth. My hands are on the steering wheel, clutching it tightly.

"Thanks for driving me home."

I don't speak.

"Lily?"

"What? Oh, yeah."

Miley shifts uncomfortably in her seat. "Did I do something wrong?"

Jotting a little, I turn to her shaking my head frantically. "No! God no, you've done nothing!"

Miley gives me one of her looks, her eyebrow rising slightly and her mouth turning down just a tad, letting me know she's not fooled.

"Fine." She starts to unbuckle her seat.

"No, no stay, just for a minute." I say closing my eyes and then pulling away from the steering wheel.

When I open my eyes she is sitting patiently with a worried frown. "I'm sorry I've been acting so weird. It's just… what are we? I mean I told you we'd go slowly but it's been a week and I'm confused."

Miley just smiles at me, and I take it as a good sign. "I think…" She takes my hand, "I want to be with you, as in a relationship."

I laugh softly and watch my hand cup hers. "I'd like that."

The rain falls harder. The sky is dark. Miley's lips touch mine, lightly.

…..

It is quiet. I'm sitting on my stool next to my drums. The wind is howling outside of the garage. The sky is a dark gray. I pick up my drumsticks and start a slow beat. I dribble lightly over the cymbals as Miley runs a rough hand over the guitar strings.

She strikes up a tune that matches my sad rhythm. I'm a little overly anxious to hear her sing. She casts a spell every time her mouth opens. I wait as she keeps slowly plucking along, unaware of my desperate need to hear her.

And then, like magic, I'm wrapped up in her warm voice; one that settles over my soul like a security blanket. It's something I've never known. When she sings everything I've ever felt comes crashing down and forms a lump in my throat. She stirs up all my doubts, hopes, and despairs.

It's her singing that makes me fall even deeper.

"How was that?"

It's a simple question, her eyes wide with anticipation, waiting for my approval. Her face is flushed from the heat of the smelly garage. I'm in awe of her beauty sometimes. She's naturally graceful and pure, almost like a little girl- so innocent and doe like.

"Great poetry could have been written in the presences of your voice." I say sincerely.

Miley bows her head letting her hair cover her face, but she can't hide the sweet smile spreading across her face.

"You're something else." She whispers.

I set down my drumsticks and she looks up. I lean over in my seat it creaks loudly- the only sound and then-

I'm kissing her. Her lips are soft and wet and this time she is shyly kissing back. A little stiff and unsure where to put her hands she sets them on my knees, smirking, I move them up and to my shoulders. I slide my hands down her arms and to her waist.

She shivers slightly and I pride myself in not losing my touch, I was always good with my hands.

Miley is the first to pull back, as always. She is always the one to determine how and when we kiss. I haven't explored her mouth yet. But I've already fully memorized the texture of her lips. I know that she enjoys it when I place my hand behind her neck and slowly stroke the small hairs there.

It's strange that only two weeks ago we decided to give all of this a try. Miley is still learning, still confused about everything but, we're trying. And that's good enough for me.

I cup her cheeks and quickly kiss her nose, she giggles and my heart swoons. Part of me is so terrified at how fast I'm diving into this. We haven't spoken about coming out to everyone. And I'm cool with it, I kind of like having a secret. But I won't always enjoy sneaking around.

But I promised Miley I wouldn't push and I intend to keep that promise. She's had enough shit to deal with. And for the first time since I've known her she looks _happy_. Sometimes she is very brave and takes my hand under the lunch table at school and gives it a tight squeeze.

Other times we hug just a little longer then best friends should and in those moments I just melt.

…..

"I think I'm going to join the ballet here."

I snap my head up from the book I'm reading (Franny and Zooey) Miley and I are sitting in English together. Mr. Gunter is grading papers and the rest of the class in partaking in small talk.

"Really?"

"Yes." Her face is determined and adorable.

I nod and set the book down not bothering to mark the page. "I think that's a great idea! I would love to see perform." My reflex is to place my hand tenderly on hers but I hold it in.

"Good, I'm signing up today. I think I'm ready to start doing the things I love again."

……

I must admit, I never once thought about the ballet program here. Sure, I've driven by the building before- a large brick rectangle with two stories and windows that line the first and second floor. Sometimes, when I'm stopped by a red-light, I will look up and see the girls practicing.

But I never really watched, just a pair of passing eyes. But now that Miley is apart of it, I look everyday. She started a week ago and already there is a glow about her. A radiating joy oozes out of every smile and laugh. It's good to see her this way.

"It's hard," She said once at lunch, "I mean the teacher, Mrs. Kelly, is rough but good and she knew me when I singed up. She said she went to one of the shows back in LA and remembered me. God Lily, you have no idea how that made me feel…"

And today, I'm going to stop in early and catch one of the practices. I want to see Miley in action, in her element. Parking Ernie I check my hair and breath. Deciding it's reasonable I open the door with a click and briskly walk inside with my hands deep in my pockets.

Opening the door I catch a whiff of lemon cleaning disincentive and the sound of classical music echoing from down the hall. I pop a bubble with my gum and walk onward, my black converse squeaking against the sparkling floor.

There are several room numbers. I try now, as I walk leisurely down the long hall, to remember which room Miley is in. 102? 110? Damn it. Chewing harder on my stale gum I sigh heavily and look to the stairs.

Deciding to give it a go I shuffle up the stairs and begin another search. It's the classroom at the very end of the second floor hall. The number on the door read 205. I look through the window and smile. Miley is stretching over the practice bar, her hair done up in a tight bun. I watch her movements, arms out then in legs together then apart. She reminds me of a swan.

"Excuse me."

"Jesus Christ!" I scream whipping around in fear. A tall slim woman with thin lips, beady eyes and blond hair glares down at me. She is wearing a tight black dress and a large red bag is slung over her shoulder. "Sorry," I breathe out, holding a hand to my chest, "You really scared me."

"Who are you?" She demands with a tight jaw.

"I'm… my friend, Miley? She's umm…. In there." I point to the classroom and curse my foolishness. Seriously, what happened to my voice?

"Oh," The woman's face brightens, "Yes, Miley, she is a fine girl. A good asset to our program here. But my question remains, what do you want?"

"I came to… watch her…" I say, this woman really scares me.

"Oh, alright." She walks past me in a huff and opens the door. The class does not become fazed by this, they keep practicing. I walk in and take a seat on the floor in the back. The scary woman closes the door and leaves. I look for Miley, there aren't too many girls here but they are moving so fast with the music that it's hard to keep focused.

But then I see her, Miley is standing up, head high above the rest. Her arms sweep out in a slow arch as she leans forward and bows to the circle of girls. It's a beautiful thing to behold. And it is now that I wish I would have listened to my mother when she wanted to sign me up for ballet.

……

**Author's Note: **I'm sorry for the prolonged absence. I was nursing a broken heart and a wounded friend. Leave your thoughts.


	23. It's A Date

I want to be apart of her, spiritually, mentally, physically. I want to know everything that she is and was and will be. I want to be the one to impact her and mold her into the person she is meant to be. I want to be her always, her someone. It's hard because I ache for her in the most intimate way, not through touch or speech, but through looks, through eyes.

It's hard to explain and that's precisely what makes it so beautiful, the fact that I cannot write or talk this feeling out. The emotion is inside me at all times. It's borrowed within my heart, a place I have locked, a place that was once always dark.

She is my light, my pure white candle, a precious gift that I don't deserve. I want to tell her all these things. I want to break open my heart and show her that it beats and bleeds only for her. I'm sure people would tell me I'm moving too fast, feeling too much. But I'm not. I disagree whole heartedly.

I'm in love. I know this because it comes to me like a whisper. Love is not fireworks, no loud explosions; it is a soft kiss, a warm hand. It is the flutter in my bright, bright heart that tells me so.

_I love you_- there, a whisper.

I want to tell her, I want to show her. But my head brings me back.

_Too soon_- there, a protest.

………

"Come on, come on, pick up, pick u-"

"Hello?"

"Oliver! My comrade, my amigo, my amie, my buddy!"

"Okay, okay Lilly what do you want?"

I smile into the receiver, "You know me too well."

I hear him chuckle from the other line, "Don't I know it, now spill."

"Okay, so I was thinking about that poster we saw on the wall of the café yesterday. You know the one about the open mike night at that local bar? So… what do you say about dusting off that base guitar of yours." I wait, crossing my fingers.

"We can't," Oliver protests loudly, acting as though I should have known this, "Lilly, it's at a bar!"

"You're point being…?"

"Lilly!"

"Okay, okay, Jesus you don't have to fucking yell. But Oliver! Open mike night! Open mike night! Do you have any idea how awesome it would be to get up there and play and not have the crowd throw things at us?!"

"…It would be pretty cool."

"You bet your skinny little white ass it would! Come on Oliver, say you will, just one night, a few measly hours jamming out."

There's a long pause, "So if I say yes will you be driving? Because I haven no gas."

"You rock, Oliver!"

"I know."

………

I pop in my 'Uh Huh Her' CD and smile as I turn up the volume and flip to the song _Say So _and begin to brainstorm. I have to think of something perfect, something dazzling. I start by cleaning off the counters in the kitchen. My parents are gone for the evening and I'm going to use it while I can.

I want to cook dinner for Miley. I like to consider myself as a rather fair cook but I just want to… give her something, to show her that we are really going out. I want this to be a date and I want it to be perfect.

"Miley?"

"Hey Lilly!"

I like that she sounds excited, glad that I called her. "So I was thinking, maybe you could stop by my house?"

"Um, sure…." I can hear her fumbling the phone cord as if standing and searching for her shoes or something. "I'll be right over."

"Great!"

Click, end of conversation.

Everything looks beautiful. The table cloth, a creamy white color, is even on both sides, my roast is in the oven and the vegetables are steaming as we speak. I have one of Oliver's dad's Italian opera albums playing quieting in the living room. I've dimmed the lights in the dinning room and now all that is missing is my Miley.

The doorbell dings and my heart leaps. I run to the door but just before I open it I smooth out my shirt, good, good, this is all good. I open the door quickly and smile brightly only to find… not Miley.

"Mary?"

She strides in and whistles, "Well, well, someone's gone to a whole bunch of trouble." She laughs looking around.

"Sure come right in." I snap sarcastically still standing by the door my hand gripping the doorknob tightly.

"What do you want?" I say gritting my teeth.

"Oh, just thought I'd stop by and ask you about that math homework, you know being…," She runs a finger across my cheek, "friendly."

I pull back and open the door wider, "Leave."

"But we have so much fun! Come on Lilly, I know you want Miley, everyone knows, but it's never going to happen. I'm here ready and willing! She's too…" But Mary doesn't finish.

Miley is standing in my doorway looking a little confused. Damn it Mary!

"Mary, get out." I hiss. But Mary is just smiling at Miley shaking her head.

"I can't believe it, I can't fucking believe it." Mary laughs whipping out her cell phone, as she walks out the door she waves and says, "You two have a lovely evening."

I let Miley in then shut the door, "I'm sorry, that wasn't what I wanted at… do you smell that?"

Miley pauses and sniffs, "Yeah," She says, "Smells like something is bur-"

"NO!" I sprint into the kitchen, "No! No! Aw fuck!" I scream opening the oven to find a burnt roast and turn to the stove to see the vegetables overly steamed. Kicking the oven door I sigh, dejected.

I watch as Miley slowly walks into the kitchen, "You did all this?"

"Yep, and fucked it up." I sigh.

Miley smiles, "But that's what makes it so special." She grins at me.

"What? Eating burnt roast?"

"No silly." She giggles, "That you would do this, that you would try… and is that Italian opera?"

"…Maybe."

……

I watch Miley pop open the door to Ernie and smile as I race over waving the white bag.

"A cheeseburger, for me lady!" I bow handing hers over. Miley takes the wrapped burger and thanks me kindly.

The parking lot is pretty empty aside from the two cars sitting together to the far right of us. Miley and I settle on the top of Ernie's hood and dig in.

"Hands down my favorite burger joint." I say, legs swinging from side to side and mouth partly full.

It's still early, the sun hasn't set, but the streetlights flicker on. Cars are zooming by making loud _whooshing _noises, but I like it, makes me feel like a little kid. I watch Miley hunt through the paper bag.

"Aha!" She cheers, holding up the fries, "Found 'em." She stuffs two in her mouth and grins. "Who knew a place called _Fat Moe's_ would have such great fries?" Miley laughs.

"I worked here one summer."

"And how was that?" Miley laughs looking at the small building.

"Shitty, I got stuck cleaning the bathrooms." I shiver at the memory. I listen to the cars and take in the night air.

"Miley?"

"Hum?"

"Sorry about tonight, it was supposed to be well not fast food sitting on top of my car. I wanted this to be perfect… God I hate Mary, seriously what is her deal?" I frown and kick the open air.

Miley shakes her head and places her hand, boldly, on my cheek. "Silly Lilly," She whispers, "It is perfect."

I blink and pull away, "It's just… I've never really tried with a relationship before, does that make sense? I've never wanted something so bad."

"And what's that?" Miley asks with a knowing smile.

I laugh softly meeting her gaze, "Come on Stewart, don't be dense."

Miley leans in crumpling the bag, wrappers, and napkins with her weight and kisses me quickly then pulls back fast.

"Sorry." She winces speaking softly and ducking her head slightly.

"Don't ever be sorry."

……

**Author's Note: **Mostly a set-up chapter so I'm sorry about its minor pointlessness. Anyway, I'm glad to be back so hopefully you guys haven't forgotten about me. If you're in the mood then by all means leave your thoughts.


	24. Miscommunications, A Father's Love

I love the end of the day, just like this. I love walking into my pale green painted bathroom and closing the door. I shut off every light but one and slowly undress. My skin is warm and it feels so good to shed my clothes.

Back to basics, back to bare skin. I play with my hair watching myself in the mirror, now. My clothes lay in a forgotten lump in the corner, not quite making it into the dirty clothes basket.

I like the way my hair tickles my back when letting it out of it's tight pony tail. I feel so free right now. So content with every little thing that has and is. It's a peaceful feeling, right now.

Without making much noise I slide over to the shower and turn the knobs. The water pounds the side of the shower; I let the steam rise and shiver with delight as goosebumps run up my arms. Testing the water with my right foot I nod in approval and step inside.

……

It's heaven, lying in Miley's bed. The mattress eats you, letting you sink into it fully. I' am so relaxed that I just might be falling asleep. I yawn a good long one and then scratch my neck and close my eyes. Her room is just the right temperature.

"Lilly?" She's whispering.

I open my eyes slowly, very lazily. "Yeah?"

She doesn't say anything, Miley just smiles like she knows something I don't and crawls into the bed with me. She rests close to my side, but not touching. I feel the heat from her body embracing me.

"You smell good," Miley says softly, "Like baby powder." She leans in closer with her nose to my neck. She breathes in and I shudder.

"Are you cold?"

"No." I reply hastily. I watch her form, her body. It's curved around mine like a 'C.' I like her warmth, her comfort.

"Lilly?"

I wait.

"I want to tell my dad."

I hesitate before answering, chewing it over in my mind. "Okay." I give her a simple answer, partly because I don't know what else to do.

"That's it?" She wonders pulling back a little.

I shrug, "I suppose, I don't want to rush you."

"I know." She looks sad, or is it just me?

"Talk to me." I beg, placing my hand on her shoulder and sitting up some.

"There's nothing to say."

"…Okay."

…..

Mondays always seem to hang heavy over my head like a rain cloud. They are shitty, plain and simple. All I want to do right now is go home, take a long shower, shave my legs and go to bed with or without my pajama's because I may just sleep naked. It's exciting, thrilling in a naughty, naughty kind of way.

Oliver is out sick today, which makes me very sad. I wanted to see him today. Just to have that kind of reassurance in the shape of his smile. Miley seems distant today. I try to converse with her but she just pulls back and shrugs my words away.

And maybe that pisses me off a little. Here I' am trying to act like a reasonably nice person and she totally blows me off. I'm not a very patient person; I know this but is it so bad to want everything to be... good, at least for a minute. But, as always there is a but, I shouldn't be so quick to jump down her throat.

I slump back into my chair and glare at the white board. Mr. Gunter is reading a passage from As I Lay Dying. I can't concentrate. Miley is playing with her hands, very un-Miley like, she is usually vigorously involved with her note taking- pen flying across her paper and head down. But not today, today she is daydreaming, I don't like it.

Taking matters into my own hands I rip a piece of paper from my notebook and scribble out: _You okay?_

When Gunter isn't watching I slowly ease myself forward and slip the note onto her desk. Miley looks at me, her eyes downcast and skin pale. She reads the note then crumples it slowly.

What the fuck?

Fuming now, I cross my arms over my chest and shut everything out. Fine, fuck the world. I don't give a shit.

The bell rings and I pay no mind to Miley and breeze right past her and out the door. Sarah is standing in the hallways next to her locker looking distressed.

"Afternoon Lilly." She sighs

"Whatever." I throw my books into my locker with a loud clunk and slam it shut.

"I miss Oliver," Sarah frowns, "His mother said it was just the flu but he sounded positively dreadful over the phone."

"He'll be fine." I remark not really paying attention to her. "I gotta go."

……

I'm hanging around Miley's car waiting for her. I've reflected and I have come to the conclusion that I'm an ass. I'm leaning against her car door chewing a piece of gum, its stale I've been chewing it since lunch. My bag is slung over my shoulder and I lean my head back to take in the soon-to-be spring sun.

"What Lilly?"

Miley has a shady glare about her face, is unattractive and it makes me squirm. "Hey you." I say with an uneasy smile.

"I've got practice." Miley reports icily brushing past me.

"What the hell is wrong with you?!" I snap taking her wrist gently.

"Don't touch me!" Miley seethes flinging her arm away and pushing me roughly back.

"Fuck!" I shout stumbling backwards but catching myself before falling. "Jesus Christ, Miley, talk to me."

She shakes her head, "You are unbelievable."

"Totally clueless here."

"That's just it! Yesterday I told you… told you," Miley looks around the parking lot with a suspicious eye, concerned about someone hearing, "I told you I wanted to come out to my dad."

"Yeah, I know." I say still not grasping the objective.

Miley opens her car door and throws in her books, "Fine, whatever Lilly, I guess it's not important to you."

"Wait a second. Miley, it's so important to me!"

Miley throws her arms up, "Then why did you blow it off?!"

"Blow it off? What was I suppose to do, huh? It's a big deal; I just want you to be ready, really ready." I walk closer to her and touch her hand.

"I' am ready." Miley demands.

I shake my head with a smile, "You could've fooled me… I just think you've been through so much, and… so has your dad. You both need time, time to adjust. But if you think you're ready… then go for it, it's not my place to interfere."

"But that's just it, it is your place to interfere, last time I checked we are," Miley is blushing now, "together."

I take her hand loosely, not wanting the entire parking lot to see, and give it a good squeeze. "We are." I confirm. I wish we could be more open but that's just not an option right now. And yeah, it sucks.

"Do you want me there, when you tell him?"

"No, but wish me luck?"

"Only the best."

She smiles.

……

I lean forward and frown in my own discomfort. My homework is sitting out in front of me, but I can't focus. My head is dizzy and my mouth is rather dry. I hear the backdoor open and close softly. I hear my father's footsteps in the hall.

"Dad?"

His shoes stop and I turn around to see him standing there in the doorway of the kitchen.

"You're early." I say.

"Yeah… Harrison took over for the day. Do you know when your mother will be home?"

"No."

"Alright…" My dad is a slim man, a beaten man around the eyes. He walks to the cabinet and pulls out a small glass cup. His hand reaches for the whiskey bottle under the sink, his secret spot. He pours a small amount and drinks it down leisurely.

He doesn't seem to know that I was watching because as he sets the glass down, getting ready to pour another, he meets my gaze.

He clears his throat. "How was school?"

"Some old shit." I reply dryly folding my arms.

"Language." He bites bringing the glass to his thin lips.

"Drinking." I say closing my school books.

I watch his grip tighten over the glass and close his eyes, my father always looks like it's a pain to drink or eat. His face seems frozen in that grimace. Am I really that dreadful of a daughter?

My father sighs, rubbing his temples and leaving the glass behind on the counter as he walks away resembling that of a wounded solider.

Once I hear his office door close I leap over to his forgotten glass cup. I pick it up and slosh the whiskey around that still lingers at the bottom. Shrugging I whip the cup back and let it hit the back of my throat, fast.

It burns a little.

I've had my fair share of drinks (okay so maybe just wine) but this leaves a bad taste. It's when I'm brushing my teeth that the phone rings.

"Lilly here, talk to me."

"Hey… would you like to come to dinner?"

……

I'm parked outside of Miley's house. I cut the engine and stare up at her house. The lights are on in the dinning room and kitchen, from what I can see through the windows. I swallow hard and open Ernie's door.

I wipe my feet off on the welcome mat outside their house. I can hear Miley's small feet pad the hardwood as she rushes to the door.

"Hey," She smiles face glowing and lips red with a glossy tint, "I'm so glad you could make it. I know it was last minute. Hopefully your parents won't mind."

I think of my mom up in her room going over her business papers and my dad lying in his office, drunk.

"Believe me, they're fine."

"Good," Miley says and pauses staring at me, "You look nice."

I look down at my outfit, it's true I did dress up a little- black pants, cute red top with puffy sleeves.

Miley leads me into the house, her dad is in the kitchen setting the table. She walks around the counter to him and touches his shoulder. His head snaps up and to me.

"Oh, hey Lilly." He's face is a little nervous.

"Hi." I wave.

Miley looks good tonight. Her hair down and a little frizzy at the ends, and wearing a loose turquoise colored cotton dress.

"Have a seat." Mr. Stewart offers gesturing me over to where they are. Dinner is casserole. I sit next to Miley as Mr. Stewart eyes me, I feel a little uneasy.

In the middle of me taking my third sip of milk and my second bite of dinner, Miley's dad clears his throat and folds his hands together.

"Lilly, I'm sure you know why you're here tonight."

Miley's body stiffens slightly. I dart my eyes from her to Mr. Stewart. "I think I do."

He nods and wipes his face with his paper napkin. "Miles, do you think you could give us a second?"

She touches my elbow in an encouraging squeeze and walks out. Fuck, oh fuck, I'm done for!

"Lilly," He speaks in a hushed but firm tone, "I like you, I think you've been a great friend to Miley from the start. And because of you I've seen such a dramatic change in my girl over the course of us moving back here… Miley tells me you two are together."

I nod, unable to read his expression.

Mr. Stewart closes his eyes and breathes in deeply. "I just…" He stops and opens his eyes, "I don't want Miley rushing into anything right now. I don't know if Miley really is… g-gay. I think she's just confused right now, I mean you two are very close but not…"

"What did Miley tell you, exactly?" I ask.

"Miley has informed me that you two are a couple. She thinks she's a lesbian, Lilly."

"I don't think I understand your reasoning here, Mr. Stewart. Are you upset, angry? Because what Miley says is true. Mr. Stewart," I place my hand over my chest and stare boldly into his eyes, "I'm gay."

He shakes his head. "No! My daughter is not gay. She's just confused; she's confused because of what that _monster_ did to her. Lilly, she can't be…" Mr. Stewart breaks off and rubs his eyes wearily. "I'm sorry… I don't have a problem with you Lilly, and being gay. It's just I don't want my girl getting into something she isn't sure of. I don't want her to get hurt and I don't want you to get hurt."

I place my hand on his and smile. "It's okay, but I think you should be talking to Miley about this."

"I did!" Mr. Stewart exclaims, "She's so sure…"

"Then just be there for her, that's all you can do."

"Well, what do you think?" Mt. Stewart asks with wide eyes and a worried frown. He's at the end of his rope, I can tell.

"Honestly, I'm shooting for gay." I laugh jokingly. He doesn't look amused. "Oh, sorry, not funny, totally get it." I say squirming in my chair.

"It's alright Lilly… if she is… gay, then I couldn't think of anyone else who is better then you for her to be with." He smiles and rests his hand on my shoulder, "You're a good girl," His grip on my shoulder tightens just barely, "But if you hurt her…" He trails off leaving it to my imagination.

I nod in understanding but then meet his eye by standing and facing him, "I will never, ever hurt her."

"I believe you."

I feel like I've just been through a whirlpool, or a tornado or something else that moves really fucking fast and makes you want to hurl… and to think it's only Monday.

……

**Author's Note: **The reviews were unexpected and beautiful, thank-you so very much. And as it goes- leave your thoughts.


	25. The Open Window

"_Here's the mail it never fails, makes me wanna wag my tail when it comes I wanna wail MAAAIL!_" I sing out loud, never underestimate the power of an old _Blues Clues_ song to cheer you up. I walk up to the mailbox and grab the slim stack of white envelopes which are most likely address to my parents to attend another stupid party, whatever. 

I flip through the stack anyway, for once this evening nothing is planned, I'm going to stay home and watch TV, maybe even- Holy Christ Almighty!

My heart goes from a regular heart beat to a speeding eye blinded pace. I race into the house. I drop the other letters to the floor but one. 

Just open it. 

The kitchen clock ticks, the house is empty. My hands are clammy and shaking as I hold the envelope. Just open the fucking thing! 

I ripe it, greedily, and hold the letter (still folded) in front of me. Okay, Lilly, whatever it says in here, you're still fucking awesome. And nobody, not even the pope, can take that away from you. 

Breathing in deeply I hold my breath as I unfold it. And then…

_Dear Miss. Lillian Truscott,_

_ We are pleased to inform you, here at Lipscomb University, that you have been accepted into…_

Holy shit. 

My body feels suddenly light. I got in. I got in to a _good_ university, a private college. I look around the kitchen, at anything. I want to celebrate. "I got in," I whisper to the empty house. 

My fingers trace over the typed letter, over and over again I read the letter. I can't help it; I did it, without my parent's money. I got into college by myself. 

I wonder… what would Nate say? The idea of him beside me as I opened it, the idea of him jumping up and down with me as I realized the good news, it stirs old emotions inside of my gut and heart. I place a sweaty hand to my oily forehead. 

"I miss you…" 

Nate should have gone to college. He should be succeeding in this life. He should be _right here_ next to me. I let my arm reach out and grasp nothing, no solid body next to me, no just air, just nothing. 

Am I nothing? 

No, I grip the letter, I'm going places. I'm getting out of this town. I've got Miley, I've got hope. 

"Fine then, Nate, I'll go for us both…."

I'm drumming my thumbs on the steering wheel with the windows down and the radio buzzing with Macy Playground's '_Sex and Candy_.' I've got my dad's big ass black sunglasses covering the top half side of my face. My hair is a wild beast blowing in the early evening wind. 

It smells like summer. The trees are in full bloom and the square is already hanging banners for the soon-to-be summer festivities. Small towns are lame like that, having random parties for different seasons. Oliver normally drags me to the summer festivals but this year he's taking Sarah. 

We used to have a lot of fun, not that I'd ever tell Oliver that I was having a good time. But just being young and soaking up the sun with a best friend did qualify as fun. I park Ernie on the curb and lock the doors. I jog up to the front door and knock. 

Oliver's house can always put a smile on my face, especially in the spring/summer months. Everything is bright, lively. I'm always welcomed. 

Oliver's door to his room is never closed; it is, however, pulled too leaving a small crack. I like to think it's his one fault, his one weird OCD thing. He has a problem with closed doors. The idea of being locked in. I can relate.

I listen closely for any signs of Oliver and Sarah making out. Not hearing anything I burst through by kicking the door open with my foot. 

"I'm a fucking genius!" I shout holding out my acceptance letter. 

Oliver is sitting at his desk writing, Sarah is spread out on his bed flipping through a book. They look up with shocked expression at my dramatic entrance. 

"What are you…?" 

I hand Oliver the letter to shut him up. 

"Lilly this is fantastic! We have to celebrate! Sarah, Lilly got into college! A freakin' great one!" He jumps up and hugs me tightly. 

"You act so surprised." I sneer humorously, "You think I couldn't do it?" 

"I will never doubt you again, scouts honor. I knew that if you just put your mind to it you could do anything Lilly, I'm so proud of you." Oliver gushes pulling me in for another bare hug. 

"Yeah, yeah." I say shrugging him off, acting nonchalant. 

"This is wonderful, Lilly, what do you think you'll study?" Sarah asks smiling sitting up on the bed. 

I pause, chewing on the inside of my cheek thoughtfully, "Screenplay writing." 

"Screenplay writing? Where did that come from?" Miley giggles rolling over on her bed. 

"I don't know." I say laughing with her, "It just came to me a while ago and I thought about it and yeah that's what I want to do. I don't want novels I want this." 

Miley smiles and touches my cheek, "You'll be great no matter what you do, I believe in you." 

Miley lays back on her bed with her hands together on her stomach and smiles peacefully. "This is so exciting for you." She says, "Almost unreal how everything seems to work out." 

I nod, sitting Indian style at the edge of her bed, "Well, what about you Miss. Miley?" 

She looks to me and smiles that smile where I know she's hiding something, but I let it go, not wanting to get into it now, I'm so happy, so high that I just can't handle a fall yet. 

"Not sure yet." She says with a wink. "But I do know this, I'm going back to LA for summer vacation with my dad. We want to visit my brother, Jackson, he's there for college, and… I want you to come too." 

I feel my cheeks flush, "Really?" 

"Yeah… if that's okay, I know we haven't been seeing one another for very long so if that's on completely inappropriate standards then I understand." She says shaking her head and sitting up straight.

"No, hell no, its fine, it's great. I've never been there before." 

"I know," Miley blushes taking my hand shyly, "And I want to show you." 

I'm hanging around after class in Mr. Gunter's English room smiling like a fucking idiot. 

"Somebody looks particularly jolly this afternoon." Mr. Gunter chuckles placing folders in his briefcase. "Get the mail?"

"Sure did… thanks Mr. Gunter for writing that recommendation letter, it means a lot." I say with all my up most sincerity.

"You are most welcome and good luck." 

I think of Mr. Gunter as Santa Clause now, a fat rosy cheeked man spreading joy to all the senior classes. 

Its funny how relived I feel, everything is taken care of. My future is there just waiting for me and for once I can reach it and taste it, and it tastes fucking sweet. 

_April 23, 2012- Journal Entry #65_

"It is the supreme art of the teacher to awaken joy in creative expression and knowledge." -Albert Einstein

_For Mr. Gunter. Thank-you. Maybe one day I'll see you again, possibly at the grocery store maybe I'll be buying peaches and we'll see each other. Maybe then I will be able to express how much your confidence in me meant. Or maybe I'll pop you in the face because I will be poor and homeless--- I'm kidding---_

_My life is becoming that of an even line. No more lops or dead ends. I have the stability I have craved since the death of my best friend, my one true other half- Nathan Truscott. _

_These new challenges that await me in college will take a toile me, that I know, but I'm here and I'm ready. My head is high with not false but real pride. This is my last journal entry for your class, but I'm going to remember this. Everything about this moment, this life. Everything about the way my pen loops each of these words. Thank-you Mr. Gunter. _

_(We made it.) _

……

**Author's Note: **If you think I'm slowly easing to an ending you are so very _wrong_. There are still trials to come. I actually think this might be the longest story I'll ever write but I shouldn't say that yet. Sorry I was gone, I got so very sick. Leave your thoughts. 


	26. Governmental Testing Ago

Author's Note: I'm going to begin using X's as breaks between the parts in my story because for an odd reason fanfiction is no

**Author's Note: **I'm going to begin using X's as breaks between the parts in my story because for an odd reason fanfiction is not letting me use dots. I would like to say, before you read on, that everyone's input and comments are well appreciated on my part and I' am thankful for you loyal readers.

**XxXxXxX**

I'm sitting at the kitchen table eating Cheerios. The television is buzzing with afternoon music videos; I feel the warm breeze from outside cool the back of my neck as it floats through the open windows.

I think it's cool the way spring just lifts everything up. My mother's tulip garden is fleshing out and looking quite pretty.

I pour another bowl and start munching. The milk is nice and cool as it runs down my throat. The Cheerios are freshly bought and taste wonderful.

I still haven't brought up the subject of me leaving for LA yet to my parents. There has been a little uneasy tension the last few family dinners, and I'm not sure why. I keep trying to think if I've done anything stupid in the last few weeks.

Does getting into a good college qualify as something to make them so upset? My mother actually cried when I told her. My dad was just glad he wouldn't have to buy me in; I pictured him and his wallet letting out a sigh of relief.

It wasn't what I was expecting but then again I can't remember the last time they did something nice for me, other then leaving me alone- but even that gets under my skin. I do get lonely sometimes.

Why do people have kids? I think the government should run testes on couples and if they don't pass and then they are not allowed to procreate. I mean there are too many shitty parents in world. Well, I know one thing; I'm never having kids, fuck no.

XxXxXxXxX

"Oliver?"

"What!"

"Jesus, what are you like PMSing or something? Come on, I wanna do stuff. Friday night buddy, let's party like it's 1999!" I cheer over the phone while painting my fingernails black.

I hear Oliver sighing and I can tell he's pacing around his room weighting out his options.

"Come on Oliver… all the cool kids are doing it." I tease and then blow on my nails to dry them.

"Where's Miley?" He asks.

"She's got ballet practice, and yes, normally I would be there drooling over her but the last time that happened her instructor kicked me out, a pretty bitchy thing to do but whatever."

"I don't know, Lilly."

"Oh my God, put on your big girl underwear and let's go Oliver! We are graduating in one week, okay, and then off to college we go! So for old time's sake, please." I beg.

"But…" He insists.

"Sarah's at her grandmother's this weekend you're a free man don't… no way! You're waiting for her to call, aren't you?" I snort tying my converse shoe.

"No!" Oliver replies all too quickly letting me know that that was exactly what he was doing.

"This is sad, my friend."

"Where should we go?" Oliver caves, giving in to me.

"You are my man! I'll be over in ten!"

XxXxXxX

I beep Ernie's horn with my head hanging out the car window waving as Oliver locks his front door and runs over. Elefant's '_Lolita_' is pounding out of Ernie's speakers as I pull out of the driveway and exceed the speed limit.

"Why are we going to Jerry's party? Seriously Lilly we hate those people, why spend more time with them then we have to?" Oliver whines as he tries to turn the music down.

I smack his hand away from the volume and turn left onto a gravel road. "Because, my dearest comrade, free beer!"

"I don't understand you sometimes; I thought you were above getting trashed these days. Does Miley know what your doing?" He unbuckles as I shut off the engine.

"Why are you making this into such a big fucking deal?" I snap fixing my hair in the rearview mirror.

"Sorry, but if you're looking to get smashed then give me the keys and I'm driving home."

"You're too good for me." I smile pinching his cheek.

XxXxXxXxX

The party sucks, but I knew it would. The music is too preppy and people here are basically the jocks, cheerleaders, and their groupies. The good news is that there is supposed to be a live local band here later. Jerry has connections.

Oliver and I hang around the table with the food, he munches on some potato chips and I scan the crowd. I occasionally sway my hips to the beat as I search for familiar faces.

"You wanna dance?" Oliver asks smiling playfully.

"With you?" I shout over the music. "Not in a million years pal!" I joke before taking his hand and off we go. No matter what anyone says, Oliver is one great dancer.

We bump hips and shake our heads to the tunes. Three Dragonette songs later, I'm sweating like a pig and fanning my red face.

"Havin' a good time _not _getting wasted?" Oliver yells over the noise.

"Yeah!" I yell back, "I'll get us some water, okay?" He gives me a thumbs up.

I reach the kitchen, it's not very crowed, there's a couple making out on top of the counter and a short kid raiding the fridge. I find a group of guys fighting at the kitchen table.

"I can't believe you!" A blond boy growls at a brown haired boy wearing a cast.

"Dude, it wasn't my fault!" The brown haired kid says.

I'm hanging around waiting in line to find some water when I see Jerry come running in.

"Alright guys, the crowd's waiting, so go get set up." Jerry smiles clapping his hands.

"We can't!" The annoying blond boy says standing up, "Kevin our drummer's got a broken arm."

"Are you shitting me?" Jerry snaps, "You mean you guys can't play?"

"Nope." Kevin says looking angry.

"I can't believe this! I want my money back! And get outta my house!" Jerry freaks, with a vein popping out of his neck.

Now, usually I would walk right by, laughing probably, but tonight I'm feeling pretty nice. "Yo, dudes!" I smirk walking around the island counter and over to the table, "You need a drummer, then you're in luck."

"You don't know the songs!" Kevin shrieks jumping up.

"So tell me the beats and let's move on, I'm a pretty fast learner." I shrug.

The blond boy looks at me, his jaw tightens and then he sighs, "Sure whatever, we need this gig. Kevin give this chick," He points to me, "your shit and let's get going."

I sit next to Kevin, who looks really pissed at the moment, but goes along and shows me the progressions and when to jump in and when to hold back.

"You got it?" He asks nervously.

"Sure thing."

"Really?"

"Dude it's cool, and whatever I can't remember I'll just makeup." I grab his drumsticks and jump up onto the stage and take my place at the drum set.

Oliver looks bewildered from the crowd questioning me with his raised eyebrow. I just laugh. I'm confident with the drums. And it's not a hard song- just the same type of notes played over and over.

The blond boy looks back at me, I wink at him and count to three on the drumsticks. I start up just the way Kevin told me, hot and heavy. The boys of the band smile and join in. Their not half bad, a little rusty but I can stand to listen to them sing.

The crowd responds with a few cheers. And then they start dancing. I back off on the hard drumming and hang tight during the chorus, because it's mostly just the base and electric guitar conversing.

I love the way my body feels during the climax of the song, everything is buzzing and full. My fingers are tingling as my head leans forward. I know I'm totally screwing up Kevin's version of the song and the blond boy keeps looking back at me with a nervous frown, but my re-write kicks ass- according to the wild shouts of the audience.

And then, it's over. The song ends and the band lets out a sigh. I sit back on the stool and smile as the band high fives me.

"That was wicked!" The base player remarks, "We should dump Kevin!"

I laugh and shake my head and point out Oliver to them, "Sorry guys, I've already got a band. But this was fun."

XxXxXxXxX

"You can't go to one party without being noticed, can you Lilly?" Oliver chuckles tossing me a water bottle then popping a squat next to me on the steps to Jerry's back porch.

"Appears so." I smile opening the water and taking a long drink.

"Can I ask your opinion on something?" He asks fiddling with his water.

"Uh yeah, best friend here." I point to myself setting the bottle down.

It feels good out tonight, no too hot but warm so I'm not fucking freezing. I can still hear the music from inside the house but it's muffled from where we're sitting. Oliver brushes his hair back and clears his throat.

It has to be something big because Oliver has his serious face on. "I wanna ask Sarah to marry me." He spits out quickly.

My eyes bug out and I start shaking my head, "No, no, don't be stupid Oliver!"

"You don't like Sarah?"

"No, she's awesome, but marriage? Please do not turn out like all those fucked up high school statistics on getting married too young, because you are _way_ too young Oliver. You have your entire life for that stuff." I tell him.

He looks away and sighs, "I just… It seemed like a good idea at the time. I love Sarah and she loves me so why not, you know?"

I nod, "I get that, man, but you two aren't even in college yet. Just wait, get through college get your degrees and shit and then, if you two are still together," That statement earns me a punch on the arm from Oliver, "then get married and live happily ever after and all that jazz."

Oliver laughs, "God, I'm stupid."

"No, just dense… so things with Sarah are _that _good?"

"Better, it's like… nothing I've ever experienced before. Which reminds me, what's going on with you and Miley?"

"It's cool," I take a drink of my water; "She's taking me to LA for the summer."

"So not fair!"

"Hey, you've got Miss. Perfect Sarah to keep you occupied."

Oliver nods and gets a funny look in his eyes before returning his gaze to mine, "But you don't sound overly ecstatic?"

"It's complicated." I answer lamely.

"Puff! Like I haven't heard that one before from you, now spill, Lilly."

"I think it's from that talk her dad and I had a few weeks ago about Miley really not being gay but still freaking out over the… well you know," Oliver nods his head knowing that I'm referring to the rape- it's funny how it still gives me the chills. How the very notion of the word spreads a dark haze over my mind.

"But anyway," I continue, "I started thinking it over, what if I'm just some distraction before she runs off back to _Straight Land_."

Oliver shakes his head fiercely, "I don't think so. Miley doesn't seem like that type of a person. She cares for you; just let your relationship run its course. Besides, have you seen the way she looks at you sometimes?"

"Are you shitting me?"

"Never in a million years. I can remember one time at lunch you were just eating this apple and Miley looked like she wanted to ripe your clothes off- supper hot."

"Watch it." I warn, "But that doesn't make any sense… the physical aspect of our relationship moves at her pace, the turtle pace."

"Do you have a problem with that?" Oliver asks opening his water and taking a sip.

I stare up at the sky and close my eyes tiredly, "At first I was fine but now… I don't know. I just want to show her that I'm not that guy and things are different now, I won't hurt her. I've never had to wait around for someone like this."

Oliver snorts, "Yeah, Lauren wasn't much for waiting."

"Do you think it's selfish for me to act like this?" I'm looking back at Oliver as he stretches.

"I don't think so…. Maybe?"

"Gee thanks, Oliver." I grip sarcastically looking down at my shoes.

"You should talk with Miley; maybe she's just as confused as you are." Oliver offers with a yawn.

"Alright… you wanna blow this joint?"

Oliver shrugs, "I'm pretty tired and it looks like things are slowing down inside." He says looking through the window.

"Cool beans, I'll drive us home."

XxXxXxXxX

I drop Oliver off at his house. He thanks me for the evening and advice. I make sure he gets into his house before turning out of his driveway and making my way home. I've got the radio playing softly now, it's some random college radio station where they play mopey music about love or death or whatever.

The street lights are on and I'm driving slowly watching the sidewalk. There's a man walking his dog. Another car passes me, its headlights burning out into the dark road. I roll down the window to feel something because right now I don't know what is wrong with me.

I'm feeling pensive with a hint of depression.

I let my hand get caught up in the wind as I use the other to navigate my way on the curvy road. It's annoying the way I'm thinking with my heart these days. My gut tells me what to do and say no longer do I use my silly head. And this is why I find myself parked outside of Miley's house.

I'm lonely.

I want to feel someone next to me. I want heat, not just my cold empty bed sheets waiting for me at home. Her house is dark aside from a single light glowing from upstairs. I can't remember which window is hers on the second floor. I get out of my car and lock the doors.

My legs stay rooted to the ground as I stare up longingly at her house. I just want to be with her, near her. I let my body lean against Ernie. I rub my eyes and sniffle. When I look back up at her second floor window I see a shadow of a figure watching.

The window opens with a slight whine and then,

"Lilly?"

"Hi."

I walk closer and I can see her clearer now. Miley's hair is down in a frizzed mess her pajamas are hanging off her body loosely, a little too big for her petit ballerina frame.

"What are you doing here?" She whispers.

"I just wanted… to see you." I think I see a trace of a smile on her lips as I say this.

"The door is unlocked, come in." She says and my heart leaps.

I close the door behind me and there she is, waiting for me with open arms. Miley envelopes me into her and holds me tightly. I place my face in her neck and she rubs her hands up and down my back in comfort.

"What's going on in that head of yours?" She whispers to me as we stay, close in our embrace.

"Nonsense." I reply.

We walk upstairs carefully not to wake her dad. We reach her room and she shuts her door. I watch as Miley pulls the covers back and gestures for me to climb in first. I do and I let her tuck me in like a child. She smoothes out the sheets and caresses my cheek. I smile at her warmth.

Miley crawls in next careful not to ruin her fine job of making me comfortable in her bed. I listen to her sighs as she adjusts her positions and then she settles and pulls me in, closer to her and I oblige with no protest.

"Better?" She whispers.

I breathe in her scent and whisper back, "Yes."

(Miley would have defiantly passed the government test.)

**XxXxXxXxX**

**Author's Note: **I really wanted to write for Oliver and Lilly today considering I love their friendship from the show, and in most Lilly/Miley centered stories authors forget about Ollie- that makes me sad. Hopefully this wasn't too painful to read and if the mood strikes you then please leave your thoughts…

(Also- I know some of you were getting discouraged at the lack of Lilly and Miley scenes and I sincerely apologize. The fault, of course, lies with me. I'm still trying to mold their relationship into what I pictured it to be. So, bear with me and don't worry there will be plenty of scenes with them during the LA adventure.)


	27. At First Taste

"Let's sit, okay

"Let's sit, okay?"

I've never noticed how white the living room is. I do as my mother says and take a seat on the opposite side of my parents. My dad is loosening his work tie while my mother clasps her hands together. She looks a little beat up around the eyes, but that's just the way she is after work.

Her pearl necklace and earrings are off and her lipstick is smeared slightly, it isn't that noticeable but I'm her daughter and I notice quite a lot.

"You remember Doctor Roswell, don't you Lilly?" My mothers asks. I nod, he's been my parents coupling counselor for two years.

"Well, Roswell has come up with an idea to help your father's and mine marriage work," She breathes in deeply, "We've decided to live separately for a little while."

My eyes shoot to my dad he is sitting with a stone face. "How is that suppose to help if you guys are apart!" I shout.

My mother shakes her head, "We think it's for the best, considering the situation, Lilly."

"What situation?" I bark angrily, "What is going on with you two? This doesn't make any sense."

"Listen to your mother, Lilly." My dad chimes in his gruff voice.

"Why can't you guys just work it out?" I'm sitting up straighter now, my hands sitting on my knees as my eyes dart back between the two of them.

"Because, it's not that simple," My father says plainly as his eyes glaze over, looking out the window.

"Explain it to me then."

My mother shakes her head and stands up, "This is not up for discussion, Lillian. You're father is going to be living at a friend's place for the week and afterwards we'll decide from there."

I fall back into the couch and cross my arms over my chest. "Then why don't you two just get a divorce? I mean obviously this isn't going to go anywhere!"

"I've heard just about enough of that mouth!" My dad growls, pointing his index finger at me and glaring with stern eyes.

I get up from the couch and leave in a huff. This family is so fucked up. I run to my bedroom and slam the door. I like the sound it makes, like thunder. It makes me feel powerful.

My dad wasn't always a jackass. I lie on my bed and try to remember him back when things made sense. Back when I got home from school and I didn't have to worry if he would be locked up in his office drinking or crying.

I think it started with his job. My dad built his own attorney business with a good friend of his from college. Their clients were dirt poor but they were good people and my dad loved to fight for the underdog. But business didn't do so well and eventually my dad had to shut it down.

He and his friend went their separate ways and my dad got another job working for a bigger business whose goal wasn't to help the poor clients. It's funny the way money can destroy people. My dad being one of those. We had it good; my dad was working for a corrupted business but it was showering us with big checks. And my mother finally got a job working at an art gallery in town.

Things weren't perfect but we had money and each other so my parents muddled through. But then Nate… he gave up and took the family down with him.

Maybe I should hate Nate for being so selfish, but I can't. He was my brother and best friend. I could confine all my deepest secrets in him. I turn over on my bed and feel my chest tighten with a very strong familiar emotion.

I cover my face with my hands and try to make sense of this. I don't want my parents taking time off from each other, they do that enough already. I just want them to feel good again, feel like they did when Nate would walk through the door with a new joke or idea to share.

I just want things to go back to before.

I hear my parent's voices shouting from downstairs. I can't make out what they are saying; it's just loud noise, guff and whiny voices blending and echoing through the ceilings and halls. And then, there is a loud slam of the front door.

_XxXxXxX_

"So, what do you think, Oliver, a half semester of physiology?" Sarah inquires chewing on the end of her pencil as she flips through a college course book.

The two are sitting on Oliver's bed as they sort through their upcoming years attending Tennessee State together. Without meaning it Sarah and Oliver's relationship can be sickening at times, so sweet it gives me a toothache.

I'm spinning around and around in Oliver's computer chair while I contemplate my own life. I've already planned out all my classes and registered online for the upcoming autumn freshmen semester. Yesterday I started pulling out all of my old short stories and plays I wrote during the months Lauren and I dated.

I suppose I should thank Lauren for getting me interested in playwriting. I spent hours practicing lines with her that I began to take notice of the storylines and dialog. But then again, I think my passion began long before that even, because everything good in my life somehow always gets traced back to Nate.

Together we used to put on short films with the neighborhood kids when we were younger. Nate would be the director and I would quickly jot down everyone's lines and we would perform, film it and then watch and laugh.

"Hey, Lilly, where are you?" Oliver questions waving his hand in my face.

"Galaxies away."

_XxXxXxXxX_

I'm lying on my bed. I think the television is on somewhere because I can hear it- the monotone voices of news anchors and cheesy music. My bedroom is dark, the shades pulled down and my backpack laid forgotten in the corner.

Today is May eighteenth.

I hate May eighteenth.

I roll over onto my stomach and let my bare feet unravel themselves from the warm covers. I breathe in the scent of my pillow and try my hardest not to think too much. I should think about that chocolate Easter bunny I have left over. I think I've eaten only the head. Yeah, chocolate bunnies can cheer anyone up, even grumpy teenagers.

I listen closely as my door opens softly. I hear the whisper of my mother's slippers on the carpet as she draws near. I feel the bed dip and give a loud creak as she sits down next to me.

She places a hand on my back and rubs it slowly. "Lilly?"

I'm asleep… I'm asleep….

"Lilly, I know you're awake."

Shit!

"We should talk about what's going on…. We should…" She lets out a harsh breath and sniffs loudly, "I'm so sorry." She says weakly, still rubbing my back.

My mother has never, not in all my years, apologized to me. I sit up quickly and pull away from her. I take in everything that my mother is and was.

You can tell, in certain parts of her face that haven't been eaten by the dragon of old age that my mother was pretty. In older photographs taken by relatives and friends you can see a very happy carefree version of my mother. She was a strong woman in her youth- a born fighter.

But without a doubt my mother was pretty. Good white teeth giving her an easy graceful smile and light brown eyes. I stare at my mother now, wrinkled and broken and I can't help but wonder where she is underneath all this shit- all of this self pity and self loathing.

My mother had an affair- yes.

My mother shut down the minute we needed her strong will the most- yes.

But my mother isn't dead. I wonder, can't she fix it? Is there even time to mend everything that has been undone by her and my shattered figure of a father?

I meet my mother's eyes, hers are blotchy and red around the edges from crying and mine, I suspect, are tired and defeated.

"Will you make brownies with me?" She asks through her tears and, for some unknown reason, I say I will.

XxXxXxXxX

My mom and I used to make brownies all the time. We usually did it after I came home from school. She would always be there- before her job at the gallery took up her days- waiting with the all the ingredients and always with an excited smile.

Together her and I would mix, pour, and talk. I chatted up a storm about school and random tidbits and she would listen and comment whenever she could. But all that stopped. Suddenly there just wasn't the time to bond; suddenly I was too old for it.

But now, here on May eighteenth I watch as my mother pours the vegetable oil into a cup and smile faintly. Maybe this is just what we need.

As I mix the ingredients together my mom checks the directions. "Do you think you and dad will be okay?"

My mother's lips come together in a frown, "I'm not sure, Lilly."

"Does he know about… the… does he know that you…" I can't make myself say it, after all those nights tossing and turning about ratting my mother out to my father about her affair- I just can't say it now, not here beside the holy brownies.

"Yes." She says with a sigh, "It's why we are taking this time apart."

"Do you still love dad?" I think it's the most awkward feeling in the world talking to your mother about her relationship with your dad. I just wish they could the normal parents.

My mother scratches her neck and flips a strand of her blond hair out of her face, "I love the way he was, Lilly."

"And what was that?"

"He was… good, fun, and practical. I knew with your dad I would be safe and well loved." She smiles at the memories I don't know, and will never know.

"But when did you know that you loved him?" I push her.

"I knew… I knew when I saw him dance in his underwear at his college dorm to The Beatles song _Twist and Shout_." My mother giggles, her face flushing and her hand moving to her mouth.

I smile showing all my teeth as my mouth hangs open, "Dad? The man with a stick shoved up his butt?" I snort.

"Lilly," My mother glares playfully as she wipes down the counter, "He wasn't always like this… the way you know him now. Before this nonsense with his job or… well…" She stops and wipes the counter with great intensity.

May eighteenth! May eighteenth! My body stiffens as I grip the counter edge.

"He wasn't like this before his job or N-Nate." My mother sighs out as if it took all her energy to admit it.

"Your father loves you, Lilly, so much. You may not remember but he loved reading to you at night after work. He loved to sit with you and cuddle you. You were his girl, Lilly. Tragedy hurts people in different ways."

The room is quiet for a moment as we listen to the brownies back in the oven. My father loved me, like that? I kick the ground and clenched my fists hard so I won't cry, I can't cry.

"I m-miss Nate." I whisper, shuffling a small whimper as it crawls up my throat- I swallow hard as my mother walks swiftly around the counter and pulls me close in an embrace.

"I do too, baby, I do too."

XxXxXxXxX

I'm watching Miley eat her ice cream. We are sitting outside of 'Harry's Ice Cream Parlor.' Tomorrow is graduation and we wanted to spend time together basking in the last evening as high school girls.

It could sound creepy, but I _love_ watching Miley. Whether she is just walking, writing, or eating I just like to sit and observe her. Today she is wearing blue jean shorts and a pink tank top with her hair thrown in a messy bun. She looks good, content. Slowly, I'm catching a sense of change in her. As she begins to feel more comfortable with herself and me her wardrobe changes along with her attitude. Who knew Miley could be playful and, dare I say it, sexy with her words and body language.

But today we are children again, enjoying the simple pleasure of cold vanilla ice cream scoped into a cone. My hands are sticky as the vanilla drips down. I lick my fingers and Miley giggles as I try to juggle the cone and lick at the same time. I smile at her as I do this.

The town is moving at a slower pace as summer comes into full bloom. People are beginning to open their doors and windows. The days are growing longer and elementary school students are blind sided with lust for the upcoming break.

Sitting now in my chair I can see and hear the children shouting as they play- skipping and running down the sidewalks with their baseball gloves and jump ropes. I can hear screen doors being opened and slammed shut as mother's call for their kids to come in for dinner.

Miley, finished with her ice cream, sits back in her chair satisfied. "Napkins?" She asks me with a lazy smile.

I nod as I bite down into the cone. I watch her stand and walk back inside to fetch me napkins. I take notice of the lightening; the sun is leisurely lounging towards the bottom of the sky. Colors of red and orange mix together and I feel so good. So ready for summer and all it has to offer me.

"Here you go." Miley says handing over the white napkins as I take them I take notice of her eyes as they stare down at me. She leans in and I stretch up. My lips touch hers and they are cold and suddenly I want to know what she tastes like on the inside.

I want this- the desire I once had burning in me was shut down because I wanted Miley to feel safe and comfortable. But now, fuck, I want this. I take advantage of our positions and pull her down to sit in my lap. She wraps her arms around my neck; I fasten my hands to her hips.

I' am greedy. I take no time in opening her mouth, and for the second time since we've been together- I taste her. Our relationship was never suppose to have much of a physical aspect in the beginning- and I knew this walking into it, but now where are we?

Miley is good at this- kissing. Who would have thought? I feel her hands in my hair, stroking and pulling gently almost timidly and it burns me, makes my insides sizzle at how adorable it is.

My grip on her hips hardens her shirt riding up just so- I'm so close to running a hand up her front. I wonder what her stomach feels like. Probably soft- silk. But she pulls away, lips plump and sexy, face red and embarrassed.

Miley quickly gets off my lap and practically runs back to her seat. She fans her face with one hand uses the other to fix her hair. She looks around making sure no one saw, I'm sure. And then her eyes meet mine looking a little sad.

I look down and see the napkins dancing in the light evening wind on the cement. I watch them float away. The sky grows darker; I hear a child's cry of delight.

"Lilly? I'm sorry I'm so… nervous."

I look back up at her with a reassuring smile, "Who says I wasn't like that the first time? Its okay, Miley, in time everything is, right?"

She grins wide, "Yeah."

**XxXxXxXxX**

**Author's Note: **Not much to say. Next up should be graduation and the LA trip. If you feel the need then please leave your thoughts. I love hearing from you guys, till next time.


	28. To The Fresh Start

I like to think that I'm not very sentimental

I like to think that I'm not very sentimental. I like to think I hold true to Hemingway's way of life as to- "Hang tough" never let anyone in. But then again Hemingway was the guy who became so depressed that he shot himself in the head with a shotgun.

There's always a downfall I suppose. But what I can't understand is why I'm here. I mean I'm not some mope who mourns over the end of her high school career. But, well, fuck, here I' am.

The graduation ceremony is being held outside. I can hear everyone's voices- parents congratulating and kids soaking it all up knowing that probably nothing in their life will feel this good again for another fifteen years or so.

And here I' am walking down this damn hallway, running my hands over the old lockers. I stop at my locker and run my fingers over the numbers, 307. I turn around and begin to walk the hallway again. I spread out my arms and let my red gown waver. I'm holding that ugly traditional cap in my left hand. The drive here I played with the strings.

I'm wearing a dress my mother picked out for me that I hate and my father gave me a check to start putting towards items I'll need for my college dorm room. I take a good deep breath and then walk out the high school door, I feel a shiver run like electricity up my back as I let go of the doorknob, goodbye.

Who knew ceremonies could be so damn long and boring? In the movies it's always short and sappy. But this, Jesus, this is torture- listening to my brain dead principal talk about how great we are and blah, blah, blah. The only great thing about today is that Miley looks sexy in her prideful blush and tight lavender dress.

My parents are a little uneasy about the trip to LA, currently my mother is hounding Miley's father with questions and concerns. She'll put up a fight about my going, saying I don't know the Stewarts well enough and I shouldn't impose, but then she'll give in. Because who are we kidding, I always win.

I look at my graduating class; I look at my peers who I've known since kindgarden. I've watched them grow into themselves. I'll admit it, it makes me sad but also… excited, maybe? I'm ready, ready to face the world head held high.

"Lillian Anne Truscott!"

I feel the diploma in my hands, the paper proving a point, proving I'm not a failure.

XxXxXxXxX

In her room, my socks and shoes off, her window open and the closet doors ajar. I'm lounging, like a cat, on her carpet- just enjoying the smell, the feeling swelling inside my chest.

She is frowning as she digs through a brown box. I play with her puppy's ears the small fur ball sneezes and shakes his head. I laugh and it catches her attention. "Lilly…" She draws out my name and pushes the box aside, crawling near me. I collapse down on the floor, spreading my body out so I can claim her space as mine too, so I can feel connected with her.

She falls beside me, as a reflex I collect her up and fold my body into hers- my arms wrapped around her waist and her head snuggled up into my neck. We fit, don't you see?

"Lilly…" She says again like before, I'm becoming nervous. "How is this going to work? Because I want it too, more then anything."

I roll my eyes, feeling that marvelous swell in my chest deflate. I breathe out through my nose and stare up at her ceiling- there's a crack…

"Lilly?"

"It'll work, Miley. It's not the end of the world, alright? Just because we're going to separate colleges doesn't mean we have to…b-break-up." I swallow hard almost choking on the last word.

"That's not what I meant, I would never want to… anyway," Miley pulls away and sits up with her legs crossed in Indian style, "All I'm saying is that it will be difficult."

"Can we not do this now, please, I want to enjoy this, I want to enjoy this moment." I snap angrily taking her hands and pulling her back into me. Miley obeys and curls close. "This is better." I say.

"Much."

XxXxXxXxX

Miley is more adventuresome in her bedroom. She is knows these walls, that bed. She is more aggressive; needy is a way I've never known her to be. Especially now, I'm wearing my pajamas (no bra) and currently my hands are settled on her lower hips nearing another area, so close.

Miley is on top, as always, she's still uneasy about being pressed into the bed which is completely understandable… and besides, I like being the femme once in a while. I feel her smiling against my lips. She begins to peel herself away. I play with the hair on her arms as she runs a single finger down my cheek and lightly over my lips.

"I'm excited about tomorrow." I tell her as she continues to touch my face.

"I'm glad, I really want you to meet everyone, see everything…" She trails off lowering her face into mine to kiss my neck.

Aw, fuck. I readjust my position and try to find composure. Miley does not seem to notice my frustration. She keeps right on making me shiver with her hot lips burning into my neck.

"Miley, I think we should-"

"Miley! Jackson's on the phone, he wants to talk to you!" Her dad shouts from the stairs, she kisses my cheek and stands to leave.

"Be right back…" Miley says smiling coyly before leaving me, spread out and panting on her bed, Jesus Christ…

I get up as I hear her running down the stairs and look around. Our duffle bags are lying side by side against the wall, ready and set. I turn my attention to her desk, the book of poetry I gave her for Christmas is out and resting in the corner and then my eyes catch a new book.

I pick up the brown book and flip the pages before fully opening it to a random section. It's a dairy… Miley's diary. I should put it down, walk away and spread back out on the bed, but I don't.

_September:_

_He says it will be good for me, and I know he is right. Since we've moved I have only had the nightmare twice. Every day I feel myself changing, becoming someone new, someone who does not fear the dark and the touch of another's hand. _

_I have met someone too. Although I'm uncertain of her intentions, she has sad eyes. I'm not sure why they bother me so. But her eyes, my God, they cry out for something, someone. She seems harmless…_

_December:_

_I'm so angry! Furious is more like it, my temper is an endless wave that runs ragged through my veins spiting out fire! Why did she have to ruin everything? I was fine! I was perfectly fine! Oh my heart… my very soul. _

_She saw me weak, tattered and shattered right there and I poured myself out to her in that state. I hate this! I hate myself! She didn't need to know, didn't need to see! This is my secret, my life… _

_But she never turned me away… _

_December Part 2: _

_Her name is a flower. A beautiful budding flower that is flourishing before my very eyes- her golden hair acting like her yellow petals touched my cheek today. Her lips are pink like the flower's center and I want to taste her, I want to know what her lips are like. _

_I have known only __his__ lips; I have known only __his__ hands and I want to known another's I want to have her smell on my skin, always. I want to know, I need to know. Only then will I feel the release. _

_January:_

_I think I love her. My flower. _

When I hear her feet patting the carpet, coming around the hallway corner I shut the book quickly and jump back to the bed.

"Hey, sorry it took so long, Jackson can get a little long winded." Miley giggles shutting the door and sliding onto the bed with me. "Are you alright? Your pulse is racing." She questions placing a hand to my chest.

"I'm f-fine?"

She arches an eyebrow. I'm so overwhelmed by everything I have just read, by everything I'm experiencing right now. (Love, love, love.) So I do the only thing I know best, assertively I take her and straddle her and press myself into her skin. My lips press hard against hers and quickly I gain entrance. She tastes like fruit punch at the moment. I'm pushing myself, pushing her deeper into the mattress; I'm attacking every inch of her she allows me too.

I can hear her mumbling something against my cheek, but it is muffled by my breathing, by her heart hammering in her chest. But then I feel a forceful hand to my shoulder.

"Lilly… st-… Lilly!" She shoves me back; I take it hard and fall right off the side of the bed with a lout _thud_!

"Oh God, I'm so sorry, Lilly, honest, it's just… I…" Her eyes well up and I shake my head.

"My fault, I wasn't reading you like I should have been. Miley, I never meant for you to feel, trapped or… or uncomfortable. I only wanted to show you how much I care." I'm trying to explain, I want to show those words out loud but it is so difficult.

She ducks her head bashfully, but beckons me back to the bed. I smile at her and crawl inside, loving the feeling of my bare legs on her cool sheets. Everything about her room, her body, it all smells overwhelmingly beautiful.

She turns out the light on her nightstand and then rests her head on my shoulder as we make ourselves comfortable.

I'm nervous about tomorrow. I'm scared I'll be homesick, or worse make a horrible impression on her brother and friends. I breathe in the scent of her hair and sigh. She is warm. She is perfect.

XxXxXxXxX

"You take the window seat."

"Why? Don't you want to look out the window?"

"No."

Miley and I are standing in the hallway of the plane. Other passengers are buckling up or finding their seat number. Miley's father has already found his seat, and unfortunately it's not close to ours.

I stand with my hands on my hips as Miley tries to make me sit by the window, I don't get it, seeing the world through that window is like… well it's fucking great to put it simply.

"Just sit." She scowls, cheeks burning and eyes flashing in annoyance. "I don't want the window because I'm scared to death of flying, so please, for once just let it go."

I hold up my hands and sit to please her. She nods and sits, buckles up tightly and clenches her hands in dread.

"You really are scared?"

Nodding she plops a piece of gum into her mouth and begins to chew aggressively. I chuckle a little before taking her hand and giving it a squeeze.

"But flying is so… so sexy," I explain, "That jolt during lift off is exhilarating! It makes me feel so alive so here."

She sighs resting her head to the back of her seat, "It's scary…"

"But I'm here, and I will distract you…" I say winking suggestively. My comment gets a giggle and a light blush from her and I consider the moment a victory.

I hear the plane begin to rumble, Miley's grip on my hand tightens and her face tenses up. Quickly, I kiss her neck slowly, softly. I move my lips- mouthing her name. Her hand loosens and I smile, lips still attached. I feel the plane rolling down the runway. Miley whispers something to me but it is drowned out by the plane's engine as it begins to take off. Here we go.

**XxXxXxX**

**Author's Note: **Man oh man! Have I waited too long or what? Seriously, my homework load has been positively insane these last few weeks. But fear not for in the summer months to come I will be free as a bird. I'm sorry if this chapter in low in quality. Leave your thoughts.


	29. Better To Remember

It's burning, I feel it, oh God

It's burning, I feel it, oh God. I close my eyes again and feel all the movements of the plane. I hear the flight attendant's footsteps and Miley's breathing. It's burning, my heart, oh God.

I know she is sleeping beside me and I'm almost faint at the thought. Look how far we have come. Who would have known that day, back so many months ago when Miley walked into Mr. Gunter's AP English class that she would be with me- that I would belong to her and her to me.

Its mind boggling, more like a mind fuck- everything's been moving so fast and now I'm just catching up, just seeing with my new adult eyes. I don't want to screw this up. I have everything right now, so much that it scares me a little (the girl, the future… the new life.)

Usually when I think back or on my life I picture Nate. I see his face, his crinkled brow and intelligent stance (one hand on his hip the other on his chin stroking and thinking and pondering and wondering…) I wish I didn't miss him so much. I wish I could exhale back in that white bathtub and let him go.

But I can't.

My heart brings me back, my heart is crying… and Miley could tell. Reading her journal entries where like cracking open her head and searching around her brain. I feel like I'm seeing her for the first time. All I want to do is open my brain to her, or better yet, my hands. I want to open my hands to her.

"You still awake?" She is yawning when she asks, her hand covering her mouth and eyes still droopy with sleep.

"Yeah…" I say turning my head slowly.

She makes me poetic. She makes me better. I quit smoking the day she took me, the day she accepted me. I will write a play for her one day. I will be the woman she wants me to be. Anything and everything…

"You'll like Jackson, don't be nervous." Miley smiles running a tender finger down my jaw.

Miley has told me about her brother many times. He's still in college, going for his Doctorate in art history, he wants to be a professor. I think it's admirable of him, kind of cool to go around boasting that your brother is the professor of whatever. He lives with a friend of the family named, Becky. She owns a small hair saloon and Jackson lives above it and that's where we will be staying.

I've seen his picture before, not a bad looking guy, shaggy dirty blond hair a sunburned face and small black glasses that rest on the end of his nose. Jackson looks fun, kind. Miley said he had a fiancé once a few years back. It didn't work out that well the girl; Macy I think was her name just wasn't ready to settle down.

They fought, said stupid things I'm sure and then boom, it all went to hell. Miley said it didn't bother her because she didn't like Macy anyway- I laughed at that.

"What are you smiling about?" Miley whispers leaning in and resting her head on my shoulder. My breath catches up in my throat, she smells _so _good.

"Nothing, really..."

XxXxXxXxX

I see him, standing off to the side his smiling sunburned face waving us over. Miley takes a full run and jumps into her older brother's arms. Mr. Stewart pats my back and pulls me closer in to the two.

"It's _so_ good to see you!" Miley exclaims as they pull apart. She beams up at him before taking my hand shyly and turning to face me, "Jackson," She says with a large amount of pride weaved in her words, "This is my girlfriend, Lilly."

Jackson nods, he already knew about our relationship, he shakes my hand with a strong grip, "So good to meet you, Lilly, finally. My sister talks about nothin' else." He chuckles, it is deep and full.

I like this guy, I know from the way Miley stands leaning into him, eyes burning with joy, that they are and were and always will be very close. He wraps a lazy arm around her shoulder and we walk to pick up our luggage. Mr. Stewart speaks with his son, talking about the house, college, and girlfriends.

We get outside and I inhale my very first breath of LA air. Miley is bursting with excitement as we ride in Jackson's shitty little jeep that dose not have a hood so my hair is flying in all different directions.

Miley holds my hand tightly as she points out all the buildings. I let LA devour me fully I let the city scene sink its teeth into me. Miley looks like a movie star with her beautiful brown hair flying with the wind and her large black sunglasses covering most of her face, she catches me ogling and giggles, blushing.

I like this place it's fast paced and heavy with all cultural backgrounds. You turn each corner and there's something new, something unexpected and dazzling. I never want to leave.

"We're here!" Jackson shouts, not bothering using his car door and jumps over grabbing mine and Miley's luggage and bringing it inside.

I stare up at the building. The name of the hair saloon is spelled across the grand bay window, _BECKY'S_. Miley calls me to her side as we jog up to the front door and swing it open. A bell dings; I hear an oldies station playing Van Morrison over the speakers. It smells like hair products here on the bottom floor. I breathe in deeply.

There are three women getting their hair cut. The hair stylists chat up a storm and pop their bright pink bubble gum.

"Oh my God, Miley, is that you?" A booming Yankee accent erupts from the back of the store. A woman with frizzy red hair comes running to Miley and wraps her arms around Miley. "Baby, it's been so long! And your hair," The frizzy haired woman clicks her tongue and holds up a strand of Miely's hair, "You _must _let me trim it."

I hear Mr. Stewart and Jackson chuckling from behind me. I turn around to them and smile nervously, I feel very much out of place here. This is Miley's world, not mind.

"It's great seeing you, Becky," Miley says, "But there is someone very important you must meet… Lilly?"

Miley calls to me and my body jerks at the sudden attention. Miley wraps an arm around me and pulls my body into hers.

"Becky…" Deep breath on Miley's part, "This is my girlfriend, Lillian Truscott."

Oh, how formal of Miley.

Becky keeps smiling, "Well, Lilly, it's a pleasure to meet you; I'm Miely's godmother Becky Anderson."

We shake hands and I laugh because I don't think Becky understood Miley very well.

"Umm… Becky, Lilly's my _girlfriend_, okay? I mean her and I are in a relationship…" Miley explains.

Becky's face freezes for a moment and then, "Well, I guess that means you two won't be sharing a room then." Becky laughs while pulling the two of us into a giant hug.

Becky smells like cinnamon, she is a fairly large woman with broad shoulders. But she has good eyes, nice big green ones. I think I like her smile the best, big white teeth and plump red lips. She looks like a mother.

XxXxXxXxX

There are three floors to this building- bottom is Becky's hair saloon and office, the second floor is where she lives, and the third floor is storage along with Jackson's room. I like the stairs the best they are narrow and moan every time you walk up or down.

This place has history, character and I welcome it with a sense of adventure. Miley runs her hands along the walls as we trudge up the stairs. From the look in her eye I can tell she is remembering her life, her old skin.

Mr. Stewart is sleeping up on the third floor with Jackson while Miley and I rule the middle floor. Becky's place, although packed with several floors, is fairly small and I like it. The smells the atmosphere! It's new and exciting! I find myself over flowing with a new emotion, it's good to get away every once in a while.

Miley and I find a room and throw our bags down on the wooden floor. "So this is where you used to live?" I ask her running a finger along the golden bedpost.

"What? Oh no… I lived on the beach… my family moved into Becky's house after my mother passed away." Miley says digging through her bag and beginning to put things away.

Miley has spoken of her mother only once before. Her name was Danielle and she died when Miley was very young from breast cancer. It's odd hearing Miley talk about her mom, because she never knew the woman, not entirely.

"_She died when I was four…the only thing I really remember about her was her voice. I think she used to sing me to sleep…" Miley whispers into my neck as we lay in her bed. _

"_She sounds like wonderful lady, Miley, and I know she would be very proud of you and what you've accomplished." I say softly. _

"_Thank-you, Lilly." _

"So, what do you think of the place?" Miley asks bouncing over to me, wanting my approval.

"Well, Becky is great and I _love_ this house… I love your world, Miley." I say smiling pulling her closer.

"And I want to show you all of it…" Miley says before brushing her lips to mine.

"Girls! Miley! I've got Lilly's room all set up!" Becky's voice makes us both jump. We share a smile before walking out and down the stairs. This summer will be one to remember, I'm sure.

**XxXxXxXxX**

**Author's Note: **Sorry. I was suffering from school work overload. I have a quick question to ask of you fine readers. I have been outlining future chapters for _Paper Cuts_ lately but before I get in too deep, I was wondering, are you readers looking for a fairly long story- I was considering taking the girls through college and even adult years… but if you are the type of reader who rather me start to wrap things up just tell me. (You won't hurt my feelings, scout's honor.) Leave your thoughts. Oh yeah, and Happy, almost, Mother's Day.


	30. The Jargon Of Eating

Today was good

**Author's Note: **I have been in a giant rut these last few weeks since my year of learning ended, thus meaning, I haven't felt like writing or doing much of anything. So, I come to you now with many apologizes for my laziness. But, thank Buddha or God or the Tooth Fairy for the song _Please, Please Let Me Get What I Want_ by Elefant, it sparked a creative cord.

**XxXxXxXxX**

Today was good. Miley and I spent the morning and afternoon lounging in the sand and taking leisure dips into the cool ocean water. We laughed by the shore and built a sandcastle with Jackson, but now I'm tired.

My body feels very heavy and my skin is burning with a soon-to-be sunburn. My eyes are beginning to close, ever so slowly. Miley is bustling about her room, opening drawers and closet doors to find her pajamas.

"I _know_ I brought some with me…" She mutters to herself as she shuts the closet door and places a hand on her hip. "Urg! I hate forgetting things." She grips turning on her heel.

I watch her from the bed. My arms crossed over my chest and my toes hitting the cool golden bed post at the edge of her bed. "Just barrow something of mine." I yawn placing a hand to my mouth and snuggling deeper into the comforter.

Miley looks at me and grins, "Thanks, but, Lilly, don't get too comfy there, you know the rules… you have to sleep in the room down the hall. I don't want Becky getting the wrong idea about us… you know." Miley says turning away, face red, and begins to unzip my duffle bag.

"And what idea is that Miss. Miley?" I ask her coyly sitting up and leaning forward.

Miley shakes her head and walks into the bathroom that is connected to her bedroom. She shuts the door and I fall back into the pillows with a happy sigh.

Feeling my cell phone vibrate I dig into my pocket and pull it. "Speak."

"So how is it?!"

"Oliver?"

"Duh, who else would be calling you," He laughs into the phone, "Now spill!"

I smile and close my eyes, hearing Oliver's voice makes me feel better, but also a little homesick. "Oliver, one day you _need_ to visit this place. It's beyond amazing, and Miley is just so… great. It's perfect here."

I hear him sigh, "Well that's a relief… I thought you might be re-thinking the whole thing. I mean you and Miley haven't been together that long and you do get weird sometimes about being far from home."

"Chill, Oliver, I'm fine Miley is taking great care of me." I smirk, turning over in the bed.

"Well, things aren't the same without you here. A little boring, might I add." He confesses sadly.

"What about little ol' Sarah?"

"She's gone for the week, at some environment camp, honestly I don't know. So I'm deprived of my _best _friend and my girlfriend, kill me now." Oliver whines.

"Aw, you poor, poor baby." I tease him.

"Well, I guess I should go, call me soon?"

"Of course, my amigo, of course."

We hang up and I toss my phone onto Miley's nightstand and sigh tiredly. I run my tongue over my teeth and cringe, ooh, better brush.

Jumping up from the bed I walk to the closed bathroom door and knock. "Miley?"

"Y-yeah?"

"Can I come in? I won't look… or anything… I just wanted to brush my teeth; salt water does me no justice." I laugh lightly. There is a short pause before she says okay.

I creak open the old door and slide inside. The bathroom is set up to where if I keep my eyes on the sink, I won't even see Miley soaking in the tub, which sets far off in the corner anyway. I hear her sloshing around in the water as I pull out my toilette kit from under the sink cabinet. I begin brushing my teeth to the sound of Miley bathing.

I spit into the sink and wash my mouth out with cold water. Giving a grin to the mirror, I wipe my mouth on my arm and begin putting up my things. As my hand is turning the doorknob I hear her.

"Lilly?"

Feeling myself tense, I clear my throat, "Hum?"

The water is still inside the tub; Miley has stopped moving, "Would you… would you care to join me?"

Fuck. My entire body just _stops_. I breathe in and exhale through my mouth. "J-Join you?" I say, still not fully facing her.

"Yes." She whispers.

I turn around slowly. Miley is sitting up in the tub, her hair loosely placed in a pony-tail. Her chest covered with white bubbles; from here I can smell the lavender scent. Her eyes are shinning in the dim bathroom spotlight.

"Miley I- yes." I tell her nodding. This bathroom is different from my own. The walls are not painted green, but they are yellow. I let my hair down, Miley locks eyes with me and I lick my lips. No one, I repeat, no one has ever made me feel so self conscious before.

"I will turn away," Miley says as she looks down to her pruning fingers. I pull my red shirt up from me and then slide my blue jeans off lastly my underwear and bra. Every shred of clothing lays forgotten on the white floor. The blue bathmat feels warm on my feet, just before I lower myself into the deep bathtub.

The water makes room; Miley makes room, for me. I let the smell of the dove soap and lavender bubbles embrace me. Miley locks eyes with me again. "Is this, okay?" She whispers.

"… I think so." I answer, my voice sounding very small.

"Today was good." Miley smiles shyly, "Tomorrow I was thinking we could meet some of my old friends from the ballet school in town…"

"I would like that." I say, raising my hand to cup her cheek, I stroke her wet skin slowly. Miley is staring straight at me; I feel my blood boiling, my insides twisting up.

"You are so beautiful…" Miley breathes out before softly kissing my hand that rests on her cheek.

I spot the dove soap resting on the side of the tub, "Here," I say taking it and running it along her arm, "Is this okay?"

"You're washing me…" Miley giggles.

"Yes."

"Here," Miley smiles picking up the bottle of shampoo, "Let me." The water moves as I turn my back to Miley.

I hear Miley snap the top of the shampoo open, I close my eyes the second her hands come in contact with my hair. She digs her nails into my scalp, cleaning my long hair. It feels good, having her hands on me this way. (I admit, I now wonder what it would be like to have her hands somewhere else too…)

"Almost done." Miley whispers in my ear. She pours water over my head and rinses my hair. I smile as the warm water hits me, soothing my skin and my tired body.

"There, open your eyes."

I wipe my eyes before opening them and turning around to face her. Without speaking I kiss her lips tenderly, not rushed, no need to rush. We smile into each other's lips, Miley laughs against my mouth and I feel her warm breath on my face. I pull her into my lap, her bare skin against my crossed legs gives me a different kind of _high_. My hands rest on her sides as she explores my newly washed hair.

I'm pushing my lips deeper into hers, putting more pressure this time. Her tongue is with mine and it is warm and good, I like this, I need this. I can't believe I'm sitting, naked, in a stranger's tub making out with Miley Stewart, it seems almost unreal.

XxXxXxXxX

We are dressed now, the bathtub has been drained and our dirty clothes thrown into the hamper for safe keeping. Miley is combing her hair on the bed, wearing one of my large t-shirts. She looks good enough to eat right now, but I'll let that thought go for now. I open her bedroom door and smile from within the doorway.

"Well, goodnight, Miley." I say blowing a kiss.

"You're so very strange, Lilly." She says, putting the comb down and staring up at me with her shining blue eyes.

"I'll take that as a complement…." I laugh walking off, down the hall to my room.

The bed is cold, the sheets like ice and the pillow is stiff. Believe me, I'm thankful Becky is letting me stay but, honestly? I'm terribly homesick, this is not my room, not my things. I feel my stomach lurch. I close my eyes tightly, I can do this, I' am _not_ a baby…

The clock reads 2:09 a.m. I turn over in the bed and sigh out. I feel foolish, but I get up anyway. The floor squeaks as I make my wall down the hall. Her door is not closed but is pulled to. I open the door and it creaks loudly. "Fuck." I hiss silently to myself. Miley's room catches the rays of moonlight and I walk to her bed carefully not to make too much noise.

"Lilly?"

"Shit!"

"Hey…" Miley whispers tiredly sitting up, "Are you alright?"

"I'm sorry I woke you." I apologize, standing there beside her bed in the dark, I feel five-years-old standing at my mother's bed after a nightmare. "Do you think…" I stop because I feel so very stupid.

"Get in." Miley says pulling the covers back, it's dark but I can tell she is smiling. I climb in and she pulls my head to rest on her chest. Its feels so good, knowing someone is there and feeling their warmth and security wrapped around you.

XxXxXxX

Becky is standing in her small kitchen wearing a bright pink bathrobe as she scrambles eggs. Its still pretty early, I left Miley snuggled up in her covers fast asleep. I sit down in one of the wooden chairs and run a few fingers through my hair and yawn.

"Morning, Lilly, I hear you and Miles are heading out to the ballet school today." Becky says turning around and setting a plate down for me.

"Yeah, that's the plan." I say digging into the eggs.

"Hey Lilly,"

I look up at Becky, mouth full of her scrambled eggs. She smiles at me and then sits down in a seat close to mine.

"I just wanted to… well… thank-you. Miley's father has been calling me over the past few months talking about his little girl and you."

"So you knew about us before Miley said anything?" I ask her after swallowing.

Becky nods, "Yes… there's a huge change in Miley, now that I see her, but Lilly, just don't push it, alright? I look out for Miley, it's my job after her mother died. I love that girl so much, don't hurt her."

Becky places a warm hand to my back, "I don't mean to scare you, Lilly, I just need to know what's best for Miley is all."

How the hell am I suppose to answer that? Of course I'm not good enough for Miley! It shouldn't take a fucking genius to figure that out! I'm trash, I'm scum, my last girlfriend left me because apparently I fall too hard and I swear too much and… and…

I hear someone coming down the rickety staircase. Becky releases her hand and stands back up, she gives me an encouraging smile, but I don't know how to take it. It seems that, ironically, Becky is harder to convince then Miley's father. How do I show her that my feelings for Miley are genuine?

"Hey sleepy head!" I laugh nervously to Miley as she makes her way down the last step. She gives me a pretty smile then walks over to Becky for eggs and a good morning peck on the cheek.

Note to self, be careful around Becky.

XxXxXxX

It's hard to describe, the gigantic building before me and my feelings at this point. I'm standing on the sidewalk holding Miley's hand as we look up at the LA Ballet School. People are passing us going ahead, passed this magnificent building without much of a second glance. It's funny because, this building means nothing to them, yet, everything to Miley.

I can tell by the way her palms are sweating and her brow is wrinkled that she is rethinking taking me here. I was surprised, really, when she was so enthusiastic about taking me, showing me off to her old friends, because this place must hold many tragic memories.

I think back to the picture I found in one of Miley's folders on her desk so long ago. I remember her face, her eyes and now this building. I feel that this is something we need to do; if not for our relationship then Miley must do it for herself. She must walk through those two glass doors and realize that she is a changed girl, no longer the selfish ballerina she made me to believe she was before.

"You can do this," I say, leaning into her ear placing a soft kiss to her neck. Miley looks to me with a scared face, her lips a straight line, thin and unsure.

"Miles, do you want me to go with you?" Mr. Stewart asks standing beside her, hands in his pockets.

"No, daddy, its fine, I'll call you when we're ready to go, is that alright?" She asks him, putting up a brave front.

"Of course, darlin'," He assures her kissing her forehead then walking off in the opposite direction, slowly, and he looks back once right before we go into the building- we wave at him, smiling and then he turns back to the sidewalk.

We take to the stairs after finally pushing open the glass doors. I take in the atmosphere as Miley and I jog up the twisting staircase. The scent is floral, lilac maybe.

"They should be having a break from practice right now," Miley explains as we walk down the long hallway.

Girls, so many girls in pink and black leotards and then sprinkled about is the occasional boy. I watch them interact speaking another jargon of ballet, one I could never understand. Miley's face is a mixture of nervousness and pride. This is her home away from home; she's left a mark over this school. As we turn a corner into the older student's hall I begin to hear whispers.

"I thought it was a rumor, her coming back!"

"Shit, now I really have to practice… Miley's back, there's no way Madame Defrock will give me the lead now."

"Forget it; she's so out of shape."

"Who is that blond chick?"

Miley's face flushes at the attention but she pretends not to notice and instead smiles at me and takes my hand, "This is it," She says opening the door, "Room 609, my heaven and my hell."

The room is well lit with long windows lining the wall that over look the city skyline. A grand piano rests in the corner and a rather round elderly woman sits at the bench and dabbles over the keys lightly as the ballerinas sit on the wood floor chatting and stretching their legs.

"Miley, my love, my light, what a _wonderful_ surprise," Mrs. Frankua beams clapping her hands together and making her way to us with her same graceful flare, "Why, when you called about a visit, I didn't know it would be so soon! But never mind that you're here now and-" She stops when she notices me standing there next to Miley.

"Mrs. Frankua, you remember Lilly Truscott, right?" Miley grins, placing a hand on my shoulder.

"Oh, yes," The British bitch gives a fake smile and places a hand to her chest and clears her throat, "Anyway, Miley, you must come to the performance tonight its for my college senior advanced class! And bring that dashing father of yours… and your friend, Lonny, right?"

"Lilly." I bite back before Miley, glaring.

"Right." Frankua smiles, before brushing past us and into the hallway. The elderly woman at the piano is looking at us, her face mostly covered by her large glasses. The students of the class have stopped talking and instead taken a deeper interest in me and Miley.

"Hey," Miley says with a nervous wave of her hand.

"Oh my GOD!" A tiny strawberry blond haired girl squeals as she leaps from her sitting position and almost topples Miley over with her hug.

"Good to see you too, Claire," Miley manages to get out from the small girl's intense hug.

"Now, now, Claire bear no need to harm our Miley," A silky voice announces from the group. A breath taking black haired girl rises from her stretching pose and walks slowly over to Miley with a sexy smile on her plump red lips. The girl holds out a hand to Miley, who shakes it grinning wryly.

"Hello, Adrianna," Miley says letting go of her hand.

I'm still in awe of everything, I've never truly been good at meeting new people, I tend to shuffle off into my corner and stay a brooding punk.

"Everyone," Miley begins, "This is my girl-"

"Friend! I'm Miley's really, really good friend, Lilly…" I laugh nervously while Miley gives me a confused look. She looks a little hurt.

"Hello, Lilly," Adrianna turns her dark eyes to mine, she's almost terrifying, this Adrianna. Her features are very pronounced, slim, and pale her long elegant hands rest at her hips. She holds this great presences, this great air about herself; I have a strong urge to shield my eyes from her. I think if I stare long enough I'll turn to stone or something.

"Hi." Is the only responds I can muster and it is humiliating mostly on my part but also on Miley's. I need to make a good impression on these people, Miley's people, but I think they are going to eat me alive.

**XxXxXxX**

**Author's Note: **Leave your thoughts.


	31. Exactly That

"We're all going down to the café for lunch; Miley would you and Lilly care to join us

"We're all going down to the café for lunch; Miley would you and Lilly care to join us?" Adrianna asks fixing her hair.

Miley shrugs and turns to me, "Sure," I tell her, "Why not."

There are five girls that are going; I didn't catch any of their names, besides Adrianna and Claire, because I wasn't really paying attention. Names are always hard, they blend together and turn to mush in my head, I remember faces.

One of the girls has a face that reminds me of a pug dog- all squished together.

Another girl's face is long and square.

And then there's a girl next to me whose face is very round and a little pudgy.

Then there's Claire and Adrianne.

Everyone is bouncing around Miley, begging for any shred of detail about her new life and me. Miley seeming frazzled by the swarming mounds of attention backs away and I grab her hand and squeeze it tightly.

"How about we answer questions at lunch?" I offer the suggestion and it sets well with the ballerinas. They begin to pack up and Miley leads me outside the door for privacy.

"What is wrong with you?" She frowns placing her hands on her hips; it makes her look rather adorable. I want to kiss her right now, just grab her and make us crash together- right here right now in the hallway where at any minute a teacher or student could walk by- super hot.

"Why can't I tell them about us, I'm ready Lilly, honest, if they don't approve then they are no friends of mine…" She explains taking both my hands.

I feel like an idiot now, no, take that back, someone please stamp 'jackass' across my forehead. That is precisely why I didn't want Miley's friends to know, I don't want them to turn her away.

"Sorry, it was just me being weird again, we'll tell them at lunch, kay?" I ask feebly, if I were a dog I would be tucking my tail between my legs.

"It's fine, Lilly, I like knowing you're concerned… but what do you think about everyone? I know it's intimidating at first what with so many people but, they are sweet girls and just wait till you meet Dillon!"

XxXxXxX

It is so fucking hot. The sun is burning into my skin and what's worse is that we are eating under an umbrella and still I feel the blazing golden ball of fiery death, ugh. I ordered just a lemonade because I'm not hungry and I'm actually pretty nervous about explaining our relationship to these five complete strangers.

Really now, why can't Miley just get a tattoo of a rainbow on her ass and we'll call it done with… but wait that would mean Miley would have to show them her butt- so not okay. I never like to say I'm the jealous type but who are we kidding, right?

I feel a tad out of place. I watch the girls catch up over the year that they've missed together. Miley looks lovely, laughing and occasionally adjusting her sunglasses and flipping her hair, she looks content here and then I begin to worry yet again- where the hell do I fit into this life? It's funny to remember that Miley and I once used to have completely separate lives, separate universes. I feel like we are so intertwined now, so together and slowly molding into one person.

"… Oh Joann! I forgot how hysterical you were!" Miley giggles covering her mouth. Huh, so the pug faced girl's name is Joann, got it. I' am mentally recording that to forever be embedded in my memory… saving… saving… check!

As the conversation begins to die down Miley gives me an encouraging smile before diving in. "So, remember when Lilly and I told everyone we were f-friends?" Miley asks looking around the table.

The girls all nod, some still sipping their drinks others finishing off their lunch. Adrianna sits back in her seat, dark eyes watching, observing. I'm sitting perfectly erect in my seat eyes only on Miley now, I watch her for any waver of speech to let me know that I should jump in and blurt it out, "We're totally gay!" – But that wouldn't be appropriate.

"Lilly and I are not only good friends… we are a c-couple. Lilly and I are together." Miley finishes bravely, I want to applaud her but I hold it back and now redirect my attention to the girls.

"So… you're like… lesbians?" The girl with a long square face asks raising her eyebrow.

"Yes." I answer, tilting my head at her, "Is that going to be a problem?"

"No," Joann remarks beginning to play with her napkin, "It's just…"

"You were completely boy crazy, Miley," Adrianna says cutting off Joann, "It's a little difficult to take you seriously. We haven't seen you in a year and now you come back… gay? What, did this girl," She points to me, "Turn you or something… honest, Lilly, I have nothing against the gays but, Miley isn't a lesbian."

"How would you know?" I can't help it I snort a little as I ask the question. Miley is fiddling with her hands, staring down.

"I mean look," Adrianna continues, "That is not my best friend Miley, okay, the Miley I knew was a tough bitch who didn't let anyone stand in her way of becoming the best. The Miley I knew would stay up all night practicing her techniques to get the lead role… and now, a year later… you're suddenly _shy _and _sweet_ and _gay_?" Adrianna laughs; it's almost haunting and gives me the creeps. "Lilly," She looks to me, still with that smirk on her face, "That girl over there is a completely new person. If you fell in love with this girl then you didn't fall in love with Miley."

"For God's sake, Adrianna, shove it, alright!" Miley scowls and I'm a little taken back. Her eyes are dark and her body looks tension. "I will be with whomever the hell I want to be with, got it? You don't know everything, Adrianna."

This isn't my Miley that is glaring at the table of girls, not at all. This girl sitting next to me is different in the way of her body language and word usage.

"Now, there's _my _Miley." Adrianna says.

XxXxXxX

So lunch was a disaster, for me and for Miley. Though it seemed only Joann and Adrianna had a problem with Miley's new found sexuality, none of the other girls seemed to mind. They were actually intrigued by it, or should I say by me. It isn't often I get so much attention just for being gay.

"So, what you mean to say is that… you do it with your hands?" –That comment had me practically crying because I was laughing so hard; it came from the girl with a round pudgy face. It's cute how straight girls can be so oblivious.

"Lilly, do you consider yourself butch or femme?" –The girl with the square face, Ellen, asked me that one. Truthfully, I never considered myself anything but me.

Right now Miley is driving Jackson's shitty jeep down one of the main roads which name I can't remember. She seems a little nervous as she taps her thumbs on the steering wheel while switching lanes. We are meeting Dillon at the movie theater; we're going to see some stupid horror flick, defiantly not my thing but Miley wants to go and at this point I would jump off a bridge if she asked me too. And then tomorrow night we are off to the ballet to watch Mrs. Frankua's advanced class perform, and even though I hate Mrs. Frankua's guts, I've never seen a ballet before so I'm ecstatic.

"Lilly!" Miley calls over the loud wind of the roofless jeep.

"Yeah!" I yell back trying to tame my hair from the monstrous wind.

"I just want you to know that I'm sorry!" She's staring at the road but she looks to me every so often.

"What do you mean?"

"I'm sorry you had to see me like that!" We stop at a red light and Miley finally has a chance to speak like a normal person, "I'm sorry I acted that way at lunch… Adrianna and I go far back, she tends to bring out the worst in me sometimes."

The light turns green but Miley doesn't move. "Lilly…" She strains, wanting something- what I don't know- from me. Maybe she wants a nod, or a smile, but I'm getting so tangled in this. Who are you? Is what I want to ask her.

The car behind us is beeping their horn and swearing from outside his window. Getting annoyed, I turn around in my seat, "Fuck off!" I scream at the guy, he flicks me off and goes around us.

Miley reverts back to sitting a little hunched down, she's upset, but I try to ignore it as Miley steps off the break and onto the accelerator. I don't care that my hair is being so wild anymore, I let it go and stare out the window.

We park in the back of the movie theater where the people who work there take their smoking breaks. A few of them are out now taking long drags, for a split second I flirt with the idea of asking for a quick smoke. Miley shuts off the engine and turns her body to face me completely.

"Lilly," She begins, reaching for my hand and I let her take it, "What is it? Tell me what you want."

"I just want to know who you are… and I do even know the real you?" I can't help but feel my heart ache; she's staring intensely at me.

"You know me." Miley whispers.

I can smell the cigarette smoke from here and a couple of older men laughing with their raspy voices thick with age.

"You know me," Miley repeats, "I've changed, I'm not who they say I' am anymore. You changed me Lilly, and for the better… I want to be good enough for you-"

I laugh, "Good enough for me? For fuck's sake, Miley, you are talking about me, right? I'm so messed up… we've both changed. I'm different because of you… I want to be better then I was," I stop and stroke her wrist where her tattoo hides, "You are the first person who has ever made me feel… like I can…."

"Fly?" Miley offers meekly a dark blush spreading over her face.

"Exactly."

And we kiss.

**XxXxXxX**

**Author's Note:** Not a lot to say on my part- your reviews make me blush, honest. I'm grateful to everyone who takes the time to put down what they feel in words about this story; it means the world to me, even if everything you say isn't always good, I want truth. Leave your thoughts.


	32. White Gloved Virginity

God, I love kissing

God, I love kissing. I love lips, tongues, teeth, and spit. It's very animalistic, the lust, the initial _want_ to grab someone in the dark and just… kiss. I mean the very word _kiss_ is sexy and innocent all at the same time.

(_Kiss- to__ touch or press with the lips slightly pursed, and then often to part them and to emit a smacking sound, in an expression of affection, love, greeting, reverence_.)

But what makes me turn to complete mush is that sound, the small moan, or whimper some girls make into my open mouth. Guys don't do that, it's more of a growl, like a bear, and it never gave me the same satisfaction. Miley makes the most precious sounds when we kiss. It gives me this flutter deep inside, I can't quiet pin point where the fluttering starts and ends, it just lives, and I know I've never experienced anything like it.

Like now, sitting in Jackson's jeep we are kissing and she is making that noise, that beautiful sound and my heart swoons. Miley places her hand to my thigh; I feel her hot hand even through my blue jeans. She moves her hand up and down. I can't stop shaking. My bottom lip trembles and Miley starts to pull away.

"Lilly…" She breathes out my name in deep concern and it makes me shake harder, "What is it?" She's only centimeters away, her lips are so close- they are wet and I just can't take it so I close the distance again. She exhales sharply and shudders as she repeats my name over and over. I shift in my seat and slowly come closer to her, reclining the seat so that she is laid back and I can crawl on top.

"Oh…" She says when my hand comes up her shirt and rests on her warm stomach. I draw imaginary circles in her skin.

"Um… Miley?"

I jerk up, scared, but too fast and fall sideways back into my seat, "Fuck!"

"Lilly!"

"Sorry!"

Miley and I both turn to see a tall finely tanned boy standing next to the car with an embarrassed smile. "Sorry, again… Miley, I didn't mean to intrude it's just…"

"Dillon, its fine." Miley mumbles face beat red as she brushes her hair back, "Lilly are you alright?"

I nod, sitting up better. "Sure."

XxXxXxX

Dillon does not look gay. He does not fit the profile of a gay man- girlish voice, stylish clothes, and pansy attitude. No, Dillon isn't any of those things; he has a very deep voice and messy dark hair and no fashion sense at all. But he seems charming from the way he can make Miley smile. Dillon's boyfriend, however, does fit the gay man label; he's the small blond haired boy waving at us from the theater entrance. We walk over and he and Dillon share a quick kiss.

"Hello, I'm Jake, and you must be Miley," He says pointing to her, "And you must be Lilly."

Miley and I nod both exchanging hellos to Jake as he smiles placing his head on Dillon's shoulder.

"It's good to finally put a face with the description," Dillon says to me as Jake and Miley chat and stand in line for tickets, "Miley talks about you all the time, even before she said you guys were together. Have you met the ballet brats, yet?"

I snort scratching my neck, "Sure have and Adrianna is a real treat."

Dillon rolls his head back with a full laugh, "Tell me about it. Miley and Adrianna were always at each other's throats back then."

"I thought they were friends?"

Dillon shrugs and frowns, "In a way… it's kind of complicated. Their friendship was on and off. During tryouts they were at war but over summer after the school year it was as if nothing had ever happened. I always told Miley Adrianna was bad news… but she just insisted that they were close… anyway; I'm glad Miley's done with it."

"What do you mean?" I ask walking over to the food line, I have my eye on the large Code Red Mountain Dew, oh yeah come to momma! "Miley's coming back here for college, she's going to dance again."

Dillon drops his jaw, "What?"

"I'm really lost, what's the big deal, Miley loves to dance end of story." I tell Dillon laying a ten on the candy counter and pointing to the Mountain Dew.

"Lilly!" Dillon shouts leaning against the counter to stare at me, "Miley throws herself into dancing, she won't let anything get in her way… she gets a little crazy sometimes…"

I shrug, "So what, she's not allowed to be passionate about something?" I snap taking my change and then walking over to grab a straw.

"Fine," Dillon sighs, defeated, "No one ever listens to me anyway…"

"Oh, come now, Dillon, I listen to you!" Jake giggles walking over with Miley and the tickets.

XxXxXxX

I hate scary movies, I _hate_ scary movies! Gross! Sticking out my tongue I look around me. Dillon and Jake are snickering while feeding each other popcorn and Miley is staring intensely at the film completely wrapped up in it. And I, well, I' am currently hiding my eyes from the screen with my hands, very butch.

"That storyline was pointless…" Miley yawns walking out of the theater along side me while Dillon and Jake trail behind us. "But, what do you think of Dillon?"

"He seems nice; I didn't get a chance to talk with him, but next time, right?"

"Of course." Miley assures me with a wink.

XxXxXxX

"I know, Oliver, I know." I sigh into the phone while Miley and I lounge on my bed, back at Becky's place.

"Anyway, Sarah's back, she sends her love, we're going swimming tomorrow, how's the weather there?" Oliver asks me, "Here it's terrible."

"Not bad, fairly steamy," I snicker as Miley tickles my sides.

"Miley's there with you, isn't she?"

I continue to laugh as I listen to Oliver lecture about phone conversation etiquette. "Whatever, Oliver, I'll talk to you tomorrow night."

We hang up.

XxXxXxX

Becky eyes me like a lioness would her prey, green eyes flashing dangerously as her lips curl into scowl. "Got any threes?" She asks raising her eyebrow.

"Go fish." I answer proudly.

"Damn."

Miley watches us from the couch and shakes her head as she bends over in order to slip into her shoes. Becky reaches into the pile of cards on the dining room table and smiles; I'm assuming she found her fourth three.

Jackson comes bounding down the stairs unexpectedly, "Has anyone seen my folder, you know, the yellow one where I keep all my lector notes? God, my exam is next week!" He darts his eyes from the couch to the table then runs away into the kitchen.

"How do you live with him?" Miley asks Becky in amazement, "I think I would die."

Becky laughs and places her cards down and yawns, "He's a good kid…well, Lilly, it looks like Miley's finally ready to go. It's been fun playing with you."

"Right back at ya!" I say getting up and smoothing out my dress.

"Where's my dad?" Miley wonders looking around, "I really wanted to talk to him before we left, it's a shame he doesn't want to go…" She trails off as she walks into the backroom.

"You exited, Lilly?" Becky asks me beginning to clean up the cards.

Miley and I are heading out to the theater to watch Mrs. Frankua's class perform. It's a big deal, Miley and I had to get all dolled up to go.

"Very," I nod to Becky, "I can barely contain myself!"

XxXxXxX

It electrifies you. It heightens every sense, because you wait in a stunned silence as they move, move like something inhuman because real people can't stretch that way, can't look mournful with their bodies- but ballerinas can. This is something more then a quant night out with Miley, it's watching these people take the stage like masters of their craft, in the joy and fullest of their youth- I'm a little jealous.

I'm leaning forward in my seat I'm so entranced so much under this magical spell that the dancers bind me too. Oh, hell, it hurts, physically as much as it does emotionally as the orchestra sweeps up with the dancers in a grand breathtaking climax. The applause is a loud roar like a loin, king of its jungle. Miley and I stand up, both enthralled with the feeling of emptiness and fullness the performance leaves us with. I'm so… so here, I can feel myself but I feel so much greater then I really am… I wonder, why did I wait this long to go see a ballet?

I can understand Miley's passion now.

"It was magical, wasn't it?" Miley sighs happily, lopping her arm in mine as we walk to the backstage to congratulate Mrs. Frankua and her class.

"It was beyond… words." I whisper as we make our way through the crowd and finally reach the dancers as they chatter and prance around their dressing rooms some still in their costumes and others already dressed in their finest ready to greet their public and drink good wine.

Miley speaks with Mrs. Frankua as I examine the stage from back here, I look out over the thousands of empty seats, I peer at it through the small opening in the curtain. I touch the velvet red curtain gingerly, scared I might make it fall. The curtain feels… powerful.

"Lilly?"

I turn my head to Miley, we are almost alone here, I hadn't noticed that most of the people had gone just two security men walking out now. Miley makes her way to me, smiling coyly.

"You having a fun time?" She asks standing close, so close I can almost feel her without touching. Heat gravitates to me, like magnets, we are magnets.

I laugh nervously; I don't know _this_ Miley, "So much fun…" I brush hair away from her face and let my hand trail down her cheek lightly, letting my fingertips tickle her pink flushed skin.

I move over, more towards the left so my back is against the brick wall, out of the corner of my eye I see the curtain's edge waver back and forth from my sudden movement. Miley follows my lead of action, still smiling.

"What are you thin-" I get cut off by her lips. _Fuck_, she isn't fooling around. Miley's white gloved hand finds my breast and cups it tightly, pressing in as I suck in my breath quickly. I think I like being ravished by Miss. Miley Stewart…

Her white gloved hand finds my cheek as she continues to kiss me, deeply and with a new heated passion that makes the place between my legs _throb_ desperately. I want to know this side of her so I tangle my hands in her curly hair and grip it tighter… and tighter each time Miley squeezes my breast. And then, suddenly, she leaves my breast and I feel her pushing back my dress, her hand runs up my thigh then grazes my bare skin with that gloved hand, my dress hem now wrinkled and pushed up to my waist, but I don't really mind it. She teases me, unknowingly, by running her finger up and up almost to the center of me that throbs for her, but she never touches, no, she simply runs the glove back down.

She detaches her lips from mine and begins her new endeavor, my neck. She nibbles lightly, leaving a trail of love bites, she reaches the place right behind my ear and sucks in the skin and grazes her teeth there, I'm shaking… shaking so h-ha-hard…

"_Miley_!" My gasp embarrasses me, slightly, I'm usually on the opposite end of this, but I like it, love it. I feel her wet warm lips smile against me; she tugs on my earlobe and pulls back, breathless.

"I've just… I don't know what came over me… Lilly, I've just always wanted to… to do that." She admits, a blush returning her back to the Miley that I know best. She twists her gloved hands together shyly.

"I…" I'm still trying to catch my breath, "Holy shit."

She laughs lightly, it rings out into the stage, I feel her laugh vibrate in and through me. Something about this theater, this place, it drives me… makes me… I can't place it. I take her hand run my thumb over her knuckles still covered from the glove and we depart.

**XxXxXxX**

**Author's Note: **The reviews, they were beyond what I expected and mostly defiantly beyond what I deserve. My readers, you are too kind, thank-you. Leave your thoughts.


	33. Cross Eyed

Tonight, I have to sleep in my own bed

Tonight, I have to sleep in my own bed. I can't handle sleeping right next to Miley when she's dressed only in her large pajama t-shirt. I might do something stupid, especially after that stunt she pulled back at the theater, seriously, what the hell? Not that I mind, never would I care if Miley has a sudden urge to kiss me, never. But I can't shake this _feeling_. I turn over in the bed and throw the covers off aggressively.

Finding no solution, I grab one of the pillows and shove it between my legs and bite down on my bottom lip and shut my eyes. Breathe… breathe… The room is black and the clock reads sometime past midnight. I can't do this. I grab my phone, resting on the nightstand and dial his number.

"Urmphf?"

"Oliver!"

There's a long yawn on the other end and I wait, sitting up in bed legs crossed tightly and with both hands clutching the phone.

"Lilly, what do you want? Do you have any idea what time it is?"

I swallow hard, "What its only midnight."

"Not for me, you're two hours behind, Lilly… uh, fuck, what do you want?"

This was a bad idea, "It's hard to explain, Oliver, but umm… this is so embarrassing, let me say it like this- I feel like a _guy_, Oliver." I whine placing a hand over my eyes and breathing in again.

I hear him start to laugh, more like cackle.

"It's not funny!" I cry softly, I do not want to wake anyone up. I fall back into the bed readjusting my pillows as Oliver tries to act serious again.

"Lilly, come on, this is nuts you called me because you're horny?" He snorts and I can tell he is pulling the phone away to laugh by the way his voice starts to fade out, "No offense, but I can't help you out there."

"Just distract me!"

"Uh…"

I wait as I wiggling my foot, "What's going on with my parents?"

"Why don't you call them and find out…" Oliver says in his smartass voice. I know I should call them, I should check in, but I can't. I'm mad, no, pissed. I'm pissed because they can't make it work and that's all I need now, that's all I want- to come home after this trip and see them back together, back to being happy.

"You know I can't, Oliver, it's too hard."

"Well, how do you think it is for them, Lilly? You need to talk to them, at least reason with them…" He whispers into the phone and that's when I know we're getting pretty serious.

"Stop it! Just stop siding with them, okay, be my goddamn friend for once, Oliver! Side with _me_!" I snap nastily into the phone sitting up, back hunched shoulders now stiff.

There is a pause, I hear him sighing that tired, 'I don't want to deal with this now' sigh.

"Lilly," My name on his lips is strained and semi-pissed, "I'm being your 'goddamn friend' by saying these things. It's because I care that I'm doing this, showing some perspective."

That shuts me up. "I'm sorry." I say eyes now drooping and ego flattened.

"Still hot?" He laughs, lightening the mood.

"Far from it…" I say smiling, "See, this is why I call you!"

"Talk to you later?"

"Of course, you're my best bud."

He hangs up and I shut my phone, lay it down and snuggle up into the pillow.

XxXxXxX

Jackson is at the kitchen table chugging a large mug of coffee. He has surrounded himself with notes, books and many, many crumpled up sheets of notebook paper. He stops drinking and sets the mug down on top of a stack of paper before diving back into whatever it is that he is doing.

I walk over, my slippers scratching the floor and sit in the chair opposite of him. "Morning…" I say smirking at him and his red eyes with dark bags hanging under them. He looks up at me and gives a very weak smile. "How are the summer classes going?"

I watch Jackson rub his face and scratch the stubble growing on his chin, "Don't ever go to college, okay?" He says humorously picking up his mug and walking to sink to clean it out. "I've been up for _hours_."

"I can tell." I joke gesturing to his face and the mounds of work, creating much of a castle around us.

He laughs dryly then sits back down and looks at me, almost examining me. "So… we haven't had time to talk, Lilly."

Oh, God, not another interrogation…

He takes off his glasses and begins to clean them, slowly, on his gray t-shirt. Placing them back onto the edge of his nose, Jackson clears his throat and smiles happily, "Lillian Truscott, age eighteen, accepted into Lipscomb College and first girlfriend of my sister. All correct?"

I nod; this is easy so far so good.

"You sound great on paper, Lilly, you want to write plays and you have a great fortune, right?"

I'm hesitant, call me crazy but I'm feeling we are heading towards the "but" of the conversation, like for example, 'you're great, but, you have smelly feet' or 'you're lovely, but, you have a cat.'

Jackson keeps staring at me, rubbing his chin and squinting his eyes, and then, he sits back and smiles, "Okay, I approve."

"Are you serious?" I gap.

He just nods, "Like I said before, I like you Lilly, you're funny and… well… cute as hell," He blushes here it looks much like Miley's blush, "And you make my sister happy, end of story." He shrugs and returns back to his papers.

Jackson fucking rocks.

"Well, I like you too, Jackson."

"Good."

We smile and I walk over to the coffee maker and begin making more joe.

XxXxXxX

I'm watching Becky work. She flirts with some of her older men customers and jokes with her employees. She likes to hum when she cuts hair, she likes to swing her body left to right when a good song comes on the radio. Miley is sweeping up hair, doing the same, swinging her hips and humming as she works on keeping the shop clean. Jody, one of Becky's employees, works the cash register up front, she likes to chew gum and pop bubbles in little kid's faces- it's funny as hell.

I'm sitting up on the counter next to Jody eating an ice cream sandwich as she counts the cash. I lick my fingers where some of the ice cream has slowly begun to drip onto. I swing my legs back and fourth, enjoying the fan that is blowing on my back. The summer heat here is almost unbearable and Becky's air condition broke yesterday. So, the door to her saloon is open wide and there are numerous fans set up blowing hot air around.

Someone pokes me on the shoulder, "Hey…"

I turn around as I finish up my ice cream sandwich and smile at Miley as she says she is finished cleaning up for the day.

"Halleluiah! Praise Buddha!" I shout jumping down from the counter and clapping my sticky hands together, "Let's go give LA a run for its money, baby!" I plant a big sloppy kiss on Miley's cheek before rushing to the bathroom to clean my hands. I can hear her giggling as I run.

XxXxXxX

"Come on, sugar lips." I say poking Miley in the side before pulling her to me, slinging my arm around her smaller back.

She kisses my neck and grins, "Why are you acting so goofy?"

"I don't know have you ever just felt so insanely happy before that you just can't control yourself?" I ask her as we walk down a sidewalk the city scene buzzing around us.

Miley snuggles against my side, "I do now." She says softly.

I melt.

I kiss her softly, lips opening against lips. We kiss here, out in the open on a busy sidewalk, people pushing past us, a child's voice sounds in the distance, whining about a snow cone. We pull away and no one even looks up from their cell phone or takes an interest- this is _normal_. I'm a girl and I can kiss another girl and here, it is _normal_. I kiss her nose, more like a quick peck and she smiles a sweet smile.

I lace our hands together and we walk down the sidewalk without causing a stir in the every day life of anyone else. This is magical.

"Oh, shoot!"

Almost magic.

Miley snaps her fingers and runs a hand through her long curls, "Oh shoot!" She says again, "I completely forgot!" Noticing my confused stare Miley explains, "I still have Claire's music… you remember Claire? The girl from ballet? Anyway, she lent me her music for practice…"

"Why?" I ask as we stand near a produce store.

"Claire's always wanting me to check her music, to see if it will work with her routine, Miley tells me, "… its ballet stuff, don't worry… but anyway she needs it and its sitting on my dresser!"

"Chill!" I say stroking her cheek, "We'll go get it and swing by the ballet school. The afternoon practice doesn't start till three anyway, right?"

Miley's face twists up in a sexy smile, "How did you know that?"

"I know stuff… and yeah, okay, maybe I made friends with Ellen." I shrug as we begin to walk back to Becky's.

XxXxXxX

With the CD in hand, Miley walks a little ahead of me, practically jogging up the stairs and down the hall. We reach the classroom but the elderly woman at the piano informs us that the class is practicing on the stage today. Miley mumbles something under her breath and sighs heavily as we walk back down the stairs and race to the practice stage.

We reach our destination and Miley waves the CD at Claire who is resting, sitting down at the edge of the stage her legs hanging off. She smiles happily, a relieved look washing over her features.

"Oh, thanks! I thought you weren't going to have it!" Claire gushes running up to us and taking the CD smiling at it and Miley. "Thanks for calling me up and discussing everything with me… you still haven't lost your charm." Claire giggles, her face turning pink and walking back to the other girls as they shake out their nerves and stretch.

"You miss it…" I whisper into Miley's ear.

"That obvious?" She laughs weakly, gazing longingly at the stage and the other girls.

I smirk, "Pretty much, but you'll be here soon, back where you should. I'm sorry… you want to go?"

"Ye-"

"Miley!"

We both turn to the voice; Adrianna is waving at us from center stage. She walks over to us; her graceful domineer never faulting. She looks just as breathtaking as she did the first day I met her. I can't say what it is about this girl, something about her makes me feel very uneasy.

"Miley, you should my new friend, "Adrianna turns around and waves at a girl who is standing far off over to us, "She's in town for a few days," Adrianna explains, "Her mother and my mother were pals."

The girl comes closer but I can't really see her while standing down on the ground and with the spotlights shinning in my eyes. As I place a hand to shield the burning light Adrianna wraps an arm around the girl and smiles.

My stomach drops.

"Miley, Lilly, meet my friend, Lauren Rendals."

Oh shit.

**XxXxXxX**

**Author's Note: **Sorry, I thought Lauren should have a come back (makes things interesting). As always, your reviews made me blush with encouragement- thank-you, you readers are the best a writer could ever have. Leave your thoughts.


	34. The Toe Is Wet

Author's Note: Since it seems no one can remember Lauren, which saddens me a little, here's an update: Lauren is Lilly's ex gi

**Author's Note: **Since it seems no one can remember Lauren, which saddens me a little, here's an update: Lauren is Lilly's ex girlfriend, she was Lilly's first lesbian relationship and also, according to Lilly, her first love. They had a love hate relationship that was mostly built off of sex; it was all physical because as reported in an earlier chapter (possibly chapter 3) Lilly tends to be very sexually charged. I do hope that catches everyone up, and I also hope it jogs a few reader's memories.

**XxXxXxX**

"_Lillian…" Her voice is thick, smoky even, and it settles over me- wrapping me into its seductive state. I shiver, I shiver because I want this, I shiver because I' am afraid. She loosely wraps an arm around my waist and lazily combs her fingers through my hair as she whispers my name, _

"_Lillian, come into me…" She kisses me, and suddenly, I'm no longer afraid. She pulls me close, closer and we rest our bodies on her bed. She is pulling off my shirt as I lock eyes with her. _

_She is teasing me, licking her lips, as I unbutton my jeans. She unhooks her bra and then… we are bare and I look at her, I look at her and I shiver again- because this is it, this my first time all over again, except there is no ripped condom wrapper, there is no hair on her chest and legs. She is smooth and soft and milky pale. _

_She cups my cheeks and I loose all my doubts. She fits perfectly inside… inside of me and I know that I love her; I know that I love this girl. I cry out, eyes closed hands balled into fists, it feels so good, so good and all I want to do is live like this forever, naked in her bed sheets as she fucks me hard and soft, tender and rough. Just like this… always like this…_

XxXxXxX

"Hello Lillian."

There is no God. If Lauren is here, standing right above me on that stage, there is no God.

"Hello Lillian."

Nope, no God.

She looks beautiful, and I instantly hate myself for thinking so. Miley is beautiful and she is all I care about, but with Lauren… rules and everything get tossed aside. I can't function, my body it just stops. A strange feeling is tightening up in my chest. Lauren… Lauren…. Red hair, big breasts, plump lips and an amazing lover, she knew how to fuck. Aw, God, fuck, fucking… why am I thinking about sex? Knees wobbling I steady myself by gripping the edge of the stage and smiling a big fake plastic smile.

"Hi, Lauren!" I say waving as Miley eyes me unhappily.

Adrianna's smile falters for a moment, "You two," She points from Lauren to me, "You know each other?" Adrianna asks.

Lauren laughs thickly, throwing back her head letting her hair fall. I stare down at my feet, chest and throat closing up.

"You could…" I swallow hard, "You could say that."

Lauren looks at me, and for a strange reason I look back, her eyes (Jesus, Mary and Joseph her eyes!) they blaze into mine with a lustful heat that I remember so well. Miley tugs on my arm.

"Lilly, do you want to leave?" She whispers into my ear, coming close, making sure that her whole front is pressing into my side. I like her warmth, her touch.

"Oh," Lauren grins wickedly, eyes flashing humorously while switching her weight from her left foot to her right as she points to Miley, "Oh, Lillian, so this is your new toy?"

Instantly, a growl grows in my back throat. I grip Miley's hand fiercely and I pretend not to notice Miley wince at my clutch.

"Don't be so _crude_, Lauren…" I hiss hotly.

Lauren smirks, and it pains me to know that at one point in my life I found that smirk to be the sexiest thing in the world. With one smirk Lauren had me on my knees.

"Aw, Lillian, so cute, you're just as passionate and feisty as before." Lauren says, lips curling up into a sneer.

"I'm outta here." I snap throwing up my hands and walking away, I hear Miley coming after me.

"You can run, babe, but you can't hide!" I hear Lauren call after me.

Fuck you Lauren, fuck you.

"Lilly! Lilly, wait up!"

XxXxXxX

Miley rubs my back as I lean forward on the bench outside the ballet school head in my hands.

"So that was Lauren…" Miley says, still rubbing my back softly as I sniffle loudly. "She's," Miley pauses for a moment and I sit up to see her eyes, she looks upset, "She's so pretty." Miley finishes, ducking her head looking ashamed.

"No," I bite nastily, "She's an ugly bitch, you," I grab both of Miley's hands tightly; "You are _so_ beautiful, Miley, okay? And you are my present, Lauren is past, gone." And hopefully Miley is my future, but I'm too scared to add that quite yet.

Miley smiles, and shrugs and I know that I haven't really gotten to her. She seems so distant, so out of focus with me. I don't know the look that she is giving me right now; I don't know because she isn't really looking at me, but rather, past me and off into the busy city street. Right now, I know that we are almost starting over and it hurts me because I thought we were so far.

XxXxXxXxX

"Wow, Lauren? Shit, Lilly, that's big… so what are you going to do?"

"Nothing, that's what I'm going to do, Oliver, absolutely nothing." I yell into the phone as I wait for Miley to come out of the bathroom, "I don't care why she's here just as long as she leaves _very_ soon."

I hear someone else in the background on Oliver's line, I'm pretty sure it's Sarah I bet I interpreted their 'alone time.' "Well, friend, I can't tell you what to do… but I think you should talk to Lauren. You guys never really had closure, she just left, Lilly, she just left you."

"I know! I know she just left, Oliver, I was there!"

"Don't yell at me!"

"I'm not yelling!"

I can hear Sarah giggling on the other line and I can hear Miley running the water at the sink. Sitting on her bed I fold my legs Indian style and examine my toenails, I should probably cut them.

"Lilly, are you are least thinking about what I just said?" Oliver whines into the phone.

No, but I won't tell him that. "Of course, buddy, and I think it's great you being all sentimental on me and being so wise about closure-"

"But…" Oliver chuckles, cutting in.

"But," I begin pulling my legs to my chest, "I have Miley, and I don't want to take a walk down memory hell, okay? I'm good; Lauren just shocked me, that's _it_."

Oliver sighs that annoying sigh which translates into 'you're wrong,' but I'm going to ignore it. "Fine," He says, "Do what you think, now Sarah's here so I have to go."

"Whatever."

I throw my phone into my bag and collapse onto the bed with a _thump_. Miley comes from the bathroom rubbing lotion on the backs of her hands. She looks preoccupied, like she's been thinking long and hard in the bathroom. She looks to me and frowns, I sit up quickly making room on the bed for her, but she doesn't sit she walks over to the door and pauses.

"I think… I need some time to myself." Her voice is flat, but pierces me.

"W-why?" I'm so taken back that air leaves my lungs, like a sledgehammer to the chest.

She tucks some hair behind her ear and smiles, weakly. "Lilly, I'm sorry, I just need to reflect, collect my thoughts… I don't mean to leave you all alone, it's just…"

I get up and walk over to her, but she puts up a hand to push me farther back, "Talk to me." I beg her.

"That's just it, I don't know what to say, I need the afternoon… I need some time."

Watching her walk away stings on the inside, like a deep burning.

XxXxXxXxX

"Lilly, darlin', what's wrong?" Mr. Stewart looks up from his paper, lounging on the couch. I finish walking down the stairs and plop down next to him.

"I don't know… have you seen Miley?"

"She left a while ago, said something about you wanting to rest, you feeling okay?" Mr. Stewart feels my forehead as I shake my head.

"I'm fine, really, where did she go?"

He stares at me for a moment, chewing on the inside of his cheek, "She's out with Dillon and maybe Adrianna… Lilly, what is going on with you two?"

Adrianna! She's out with her! Clenching my fist up tightly I feel that burning sensation switch gears into anger, just anger… I get up from the couch. "I'm going out, is that okay, Mr. S?"

XxXxXxXxX

The city is a lot scarier when I'm walking all alone. Mr. Stewart didn't seem too keen on letting me roam around by myself, so when he finally dozed off I quietly slipped out the back door. So here, hands in my back pockets and head down staring at the gray cement sidewalk I drag myself to find Lauren. I'm going to get closure and get Miley back and everything will be fine, perfect, peachy.

I shove the glass doors open and walk with heavy feet and a determined scowl over my features. The ballerinas in the hallway move out of my way as I walk back to the practice stage. I spot Claire resting in one of the chairs and she waves at me as I jog over.

"Hey, um, have you seen Miley or Adrianna anywhere?" I ask, a little out of breath.

Claire tilts her head to the side in thought, "Yeah, Adrianna should be backstage… Miley came by a while ago, but she left. I think that Lauren girl scared her off."

"Thanks!" I call over my shoulder as I run up the stage steps and doge Ellen who is prancing along the stage, flinging out her arms. Mrs. Frankua has her back turned so she hasn't caught me; I slip past her and push my way through and into the curtain.

I don't find Adrianna; no instead lounging with her back resting against the wall is Lauren. She spots me and smiles beckoning me over with a curling finger. I walk to her and angrily pull her arm to me and drag both of us to the nearest dressing room. I slam the door and look to her.

Lauren plays with the make-up that rests on the white vanity. She trails a finger along the edge of the dresser and looks at me through the mirror. "How've you been, Lillian?" Her saucy voice still holds a certain power over me, God, I hate myself.

"What are you doing here?" I ask cutting to the point.

She smiles, white teeth showing, and turns to face me properly. "My mother is getting married again; this should be the… fourth time I believe." Lauren shrugs and walks closer to me, "And me being her only mistake, I thought I should attend. And Adrianna is letting me stay at her place. Really, how was I to know that you would be here?"

She's right, it's not her fault. I sink my hands into my front jean pockets and suddenly my confidence and hardened heart seems to fade. "I'm sorry, Lauren, I only came back to gain some kind of… closure with us."

"Did you see my picture in the newspaper?" She asks completely skipping over what I just said.

"Uh…" I pause and eye her strangely, "Yeah, I did but really what does that have to do-"

"I've made it, Lillian, I mean everything my acting career is taking flight… everything is falling into place," She leans forward to me and runs a finger down my cheek, "All but one thing, you."

"L-Lauren…" I say breathlessly and pull back but she comes forward pushing me back into one of the chairs resting in the dressing room. "I'm with Miley." I tell her, staring up from my sitting position.

"Aw, come on, Lillian, cut the shit. You _want_ me, just admit it." Lauren smirks striding over making sure to swing her hips.

"I _told_ you, I'm with Miley." I say with great force.

Lauren laughs her pretty condescending laugh and walks right up to me, her face right in mine. I can taste her breath. "You mean the little ballerina? She's cute… but Lillian," She says my name nice and thick, like she did when we were in bed. "You don't fool me. I highly doubt that little girl can show you a good time."

She straddles me and thrusts her hips into mine. I suck in a sharp breath and for a spilt second I let my eyes flutter close. But then I picture Miley. I shove Lauren off and glare her down. "Back off, you had your chance and you left me. And Miley means everything to me. You? You're nothing to me."

She laughs hauntingly and shakes her head. "You'll change your mind, I _know_ you Lillian, I know what you like and how your mind works."

Hand on the doorknob I turn my head just enough to meet her eye, "No, Lauren, you know _nothing_."

I swing open the door and walk off, head down, shoulders hunched. I've got to find Miley.

XxXxXxXxX

I'm lying down, back sinking into the comforter. The sky is growing a dark orange. Becky is downstairs making lemonade, she and Mr. Stewart are laughing. Jackson is out with a study group from school. And Miley… she's still gone. How long does she need? I turn over in the bed.

Footsteps, hearing footsteps I shoot up in the bed. Miley walks inside and closes the door without a word. She walks quickly over to me as I try to stand. She pushes me back onto the bed and straddles me, for a moment she stares then kisses me, hard. Her hands rest in my belt loops as her tongue explores the inside of my mouth.

I shut my eyes to feeling, the feeling of her pushing me down with her weight. Miley feels so good… warm and soft. I hear a zip and open my eyes, Miley is unbuttoning my jeans. She stops and takes off her top I bolt upward almost knocking her down.

"Whoa!" I shout holding up both my hands. (Miley is wearing a light pink bra- not that I noticed or looked or anything.)

"What?" Miley snaps angrily, eyes ablaze.

My mouth hangs open as I shake my head in astonishment, "What do you mean, _what_, fuck Miley you're like… like… well what are you doing?"

"We're going to have sex." She says simply then attacks my lips, I push her back forcefully.

"No, no! Miley stop! You stop and tell me right now what is going on with you."

She sits back on the edge of the bed, face in her hands. Her shoulders start to shake and that is when I know that she is crying.

"Miley?"

"Just… leave me a-alone." She breathes out shakily sniffing and wiping her eyes as I reach out to touch her cheek.

"Hey," I whisper softly, "Hey, Miley, come here…" I bring her to sit in my lap as I wrap my arms around her.

"Oh, God, I feel so _stupid_…" She confesses into my neck, "She was just so… captivating and she told me all these things about you and her and I just…"

"Who have you been talking with?"

"Who do you think?" Miley asks sarcastically, "… Lauren, of course, I went down to see Dillon and I ran into her instead."

I try to rack my memory, for anything completely idiotic I did with Lauren that would make Miley so upset. As I mule this over I continue stroking Miley's hair as she tries to calm down.

"… Lauren kept going on and on about you two and your _activeness_ in the bedroom… God, Lilly, I'm so sorry… I just thought… you know I don't even know what I was thinking." Miley breaks off and bites her bottom lip.

"Oh, the sex?" I ask wincing as Miley cringes.

She nods and turns her face away from me, "I can't be like her… I can't do-"

"I don't want you to be like her! Miley," I cup her cheeks and kiss her lips lightly before adding, "I want you, only you. Don't you see that? You're perfect."

She smiles and her eyes brighten under their teary exterior. This time, I know that I've gotten to her.

**XxXxXxXxX**

**Author's Note: **I can't make up my mind on this chapter; it felt completed so I'm moving on, but you tell me. I will be going out of town for a few days, so updating will be on hold- don't worry, I can't get this story out of head. Till next time, your latest reviews were well adored, and leave your thoughts.


	35. The Devilish Dream

It's our last full day in LA, I'm fairly sad because going home means returning to my old life, my old skin

It's our second to last day in LA, Monday our plane leaves around noon. It will be hard to leave knowing that all I will be returning to are my parents and a college future without Miley. I don't know if I can take it, not seeing her, not touching her. But moreover I'm scared because I won't be there to protect her, hold her and remind her that she is strong and beautiful. I need Miley.

But I've decided not to worry about all that junk till Monday; today I'm going to have a good time. Because so many good things have come my way, one that truly comes to mind is that I haven't heard from Lauren in over a week and Miley has finally gone back to being herself, the Miley that I've fallen… fallen in love with.

XxXxXxXxX

"Oh, oh what about impressionism artists, Jackson!" Miley says practically leaping out of her chair. I laugh as I reach for another cookie that Becky concocted yesterday evening with Mr. Stewart, they said the cookies were eatable just not normal, but who cares they kick ass. Taking a bite I watch Miley and Jackson fight over one of Jackson's many art history textbooks.

Jackson for the end of his summer classes has been assigned to teach the class on one artist that has shaped the world. And right now we are trying to conclude which artist, because of course Jackson can't decide.

"Really, Jackson, anything by Camille Pissarro, or Edgar Degas… oh no! Renior! Please, do Pierre Auguste Renoir!" Miley is jumping up and down in her seat as she cheers for one of her many favorite artists.

It's late in the afternoon, Becky and Mr. Stewart are downstairs cleaning up and closing shop. You know it's funny those two have been inseparable since we've got here. But, anyway, the kitchen is ours and Jackson has taken the liberty to take up the entire kitchen table for all his shit.

"I don't know, Lilly what do you think?" He asks me.

I pull the incredibly large textbook over to me and start flipping through, I know my artist is in here… "What about this?" I point to Marc Chagall's painting _Birthday_. The room is quiet as both the Stewart children examine the painting with their art eyes. I wait, finishing up my cookie then wiping the rest on my jeans- that's good cookie.

"It's beautiful…" Jackson whispers in astonishment, running his fingers over the painting. "Lilly, its perfect… Marc Chagall, yes, why didn't I think of that?"

Miley gives Jackson a funny look that seems to read, 'do you want me to answer that?' Its great watching these two interact, great and also heart wrenching.

"So I did good?" I ask excitedly, bouncing a little in my seat.

"Ya did good kid!" Miley teases while rumpling my hair. I kiss her wrist as she begins to pull it back from my hair. She gives me a warm smile and I melt a little inside. Miley and art, yes, those go together. Its strange but these past few weeks I've been getting this new sense of future- I see Miley in it. I see Miley and I buying a house, I see us in our kitchen fighting over art and music and life meaning. I see us sipping wine after Miley's brilliant ballet performance. Miley and Lilly, Lilly and Miley- us together, always. And this time, it doesn't scare me.

XxXxXxXxX

"I scream you scream we all scream for ice cream!" I sing while swinging my arms up and down as Miley and I walk down the sticky hot sidewalk of LA. I spot an ice cream cart and take off in a sprint to catch up.

"I'll take a vanilla cone, my good man!" I tell the man scoping up the ice cream in large portions and smiling to the small children that dance around his stand. As I watch a six-year old lick her strawberry ice cream I take note that Miley isn't standing next to me. Spinning on my heel I panic as my eyes dart to all corners of the street we were just previously walking on.

"Miley!" I cry, forgetting about the ice cream, spotting her standing looking up at a tall gray building. She never speaks as I race over, breath fading as I wheeze and try to full my lungs with air. I place my hand on her shoulder and she flinches, pushing it away.

"Hey, what's going on?" I'm asking her softly, placing my hand back on her shoulder.

She says nothing, only stares up at the abandoned building blocking out the sun. Her eyes are small fiercely staring, her chin sticks out in determination and then she breathes, exhales her brave face and lets her shoulders drop.

"This was where Rachael's brother held his party last year…"

I scratch my brow, feeling the sweat and oil mix and bleed over my fingers as I try to make sense of what she just said, "I don't understand…"

"This was the party, here," Miley points to the black door, "This is where I was raped."

In the gut, a punch, all air, all air- gone. I try to gulp in all the oxygen I can, but like a fish out of water, nothing, I get nothing.

"Do you want to go, leave? Miley we can walk away." I assure her, taking her hand, pressing my palm to hers.

"No," She shakes her head slowly, still looking up at the broken windows, "No, I want to _see_ it."

She walks first and I want to know her thoughts, I want to know what it was like, that night. Was it a full moon? Was the night air fresh and cool on her flushed cheeks? I wonder if she pulled and tugged on her dress trying to look the part of a college girl, did she flirt alcoholic drink in hand- I don't know, I will never know.

Miley is ahead of me, I let my hand brush the knob of the black door and over the chipped paint of the walls. There are pop and beer cans on the ground, my feet crinkle left newspapers. Miley stares at a couch resting dead center, it is green and the cushions are missing. She places a hand on the arm of the couch then turns and looks to the stairs.

"He took me upstairs," She says to the walls, "I remember he smelled like cinnamon and cigars, it was so intoxicating… Adrianna was with me, she told me we should go," Miley's head drops as she kicks one of the cans aside, "But I wouldn't listen. I followed him upstairs."

Miley begins walking up the stairs, for a second I fear that house is so old that the steps might give out, but I go with her anyway, ready to catch her- if she were to fall. Miley walks down the hall to the first door on the right. I only see the back of her, but the way her shoulders are hunched and tense I know this is torture for her, but she wants it, needs it.

The door opens with a sharp high moan and Miley stays motionless. "He took my hand," She continues, then taking a step inside. As she moves aside I see that the room has one window and a naked mattress in the corner.

"We kissed, and he tasted… good, sour maybe." Miley walks and stands in front of the mattress. "He _pushed_ me down, hard, such rough hands… he ripped my dress, I screamed. He unbuckled his belt, I remember trying to stand," I hear Miley swallow, "But I couldn't get up, because he was straddling me holding me down. He just pushed my underwear aside and then," Miley looks away from the mattress, placing a hand to her face. Breathing in sharply Miley swings her leg back and then forward and kicks the mattress, she kicks it again and again- each time a loud _thud_ echoes through the room, each time a new layer of dust leaps into the air and becomes illuminated in the dying sunlight.

Once she's finished, Miley backs away from the mattress and wipes her eyes. Miley looks up at me and I hold out my arms and she collapses into them, soundless, just breathing me in.

"Let's get out of here." She whispers and I take her hand, kiss it, and lead her out of the dark gray building that has held her nightmare, but now, walking out through that black door, Miley smiles another kind of smile- forgiveness.

**XxXxXxXxX**

**Author's Note: **I just got back and the first thing I wanted to do was sit and write. Going out of town is fun, but being home is better. It feels so nice to return to this story. Leave your thoughts.

_**Side note: **_It was a blast to see everyone's reaction to Lauren. Personally, I love her, because she is such a joy to write about. Don't judge so harshly, she might be back. Who knows, oh wait… (me)


	36. First Raindrop

Outside it is raining

**Author's Note: **The chapter was greatly influenced by Landon Pigg's song _Coffee Shop_- cheesy yet effective lyrics and with the song _Gay Sons of Lesbian Mothers_ by Kaki King- fantastic instrumental piece.

**XxXxXxXxX**

Outside it is raining. Dark clouds loom over our happy LA brick home here. I watch the rain hit the window in silence. Miley is downstairs stealing some cookies so we may snack merrily and watch the rain pour down harder and harder with each coming hour. I'm lounging in a red chair set in the corner of her room; my feet hang off the armrest. All we have is this afternoon, tomorrow at this time we will be back home. I'm excited about seeing Oliver again, but nothing else. I hate to admit it but I'm feeling very down at this moment.

Miley bursts through the door laughing and shuts it quickly behind her. "Jackson is so stupid." She giggles throwing me a chocolate cookie.

I don't bother asking her what Jackson did this time, my attention is completely focused on my marvelous cookie. Out of the corner of my eye I see Miley resting on the edge of her bed nibbling on her sweet treat while gazing out the window. I take a brief note that her green dress is riding up passed her knee and into a new territory of her leg and thigh. But then my eyes flash back to my snack and I take a large bite.

I finish and brush the crumbs off my orange shirt quickly. Miley is still eating so we sit in silence listening to the rain. Miley takes her time eating, I watch her chew, I watch as a few stray crumbs gather around the corners of her mouth. I scratch the back of my ear and try to look somewhere else, anywhere else. I can't get over the fact that she doesn't realize how much I want her. From the very first moment I saw her and now, still that feeling lingers.

But I want to be good, I want to savor everything and move at a reasonable pace, I want to move at the rate Miley eats. Miley enjoys her food, unlike I who stuffs her face as fast as she possibly can. (God, I'm such a pig.)

I get up from the chair and sit down next to Miley, she turns taking notice of me and smiles. She's done eating so Miley takes my hand and we stare out the window. I lick my semi-chapped lips and stare at the curve of Miley's neck. My eyes trail down to the outline of her breasts through the dress's fabric. She doesn't see me, her eyes are targeted to the window. I shut my eyes and try to listen, rain- pitter patter. But with closed eyes I only see her. I see her hair and her lips.

I feel something wet touch my cheek. Releasing my clamped eyelids, I see her, Miley is kissing my cheek. Her perfect pink skin shines in the dim lamp lighting that cast shadows around the room. She cups one of my cheeks with her cool hand and leans in. No tongue, just lips on lips. It feels good, comfortable on both ends, nothing too heated or rash- it's just Miley kissing me, and me kissing Miley.

She pulls back and gives me a toothy grin and traces one finger over my chin, "Hi," She says softly.

"Hey," I whisper back, pushing back her hair from her face, I want to see those eyes.

"Lilly, I… I want to…" She looks away, embarrassed.

I'm so happy, so content right now that I dreamily smile and kiss her ear lightly before asking, "What?"

She leans forward and presses her lips to mine and holds them there for a moment, then pulls away and nods, "I want to have, I want to m-make love…" She exhales dramatically, as if it was the hardest sentence she has ever had to release from her mouth. Slightly taken back I place a hand to her knee and gently rub it for comfort. Miley bows her head.

"But I don't think-"

"But I do." Miley says cutting me off abruptly, "You have been so patient, Lilly, so perfect." She is touching my arm, tickling the hairs that lay there. I swallow a lump that is beginning to form in my throat. "Show me…" She whispers and that's the last straw. I carefully take her face and bring it to mine in a light kiss. With my hand behind her head, I lay Miley down onto the bed gently. It has to be perfect, it has to be tender. I settle myself down next to her, one of my arms placed around her waist pulling her closer as I kiss the middle of her neck.

We are looking at one another, the door is closed there is no movement in the house, just the sound of rain, the sound of the gutter outside dripping. All is dark, all is quiet.

"I just want to know," Miley says calmly tracing invisible lines around the edge of my eye, "What a first time should be."

This has never happened to me before, but I feel my throat closing up, my chest tightening in grief for her. I think I might cry, shit, oh shit, I can't cry. Miley hugs me and blushes a dark shade of red, "Lilly?"

"Y-Yes?"

"I'm not sure what… how do I…" She is looking at me with those eyes, those two big round blue eyes and I just can't handle it.

Her dress has four buttons, I begin to undo them slowly so she can see everything that I' am doing. I don't want her to be scared. She watches, her chest moving up and down. I pull the dress off her shoulders running my warm hands down her now bare arms. The green dress slides off with great ease. Miley is wearing a white bra with matching underwear, I smile.

She looks so nervous, biting her bottom lip, eyes wider then usual and sweat is beginning to form over her brow. "Are you alright?" I ask because I have too.

She nods, "Yes, I'm f-fine."

"We don't have to do anything you are not comfortable with, okay?" I assure her, kindly.

"I know."

She has the smoothest legs; I can tell she's only just shaven because I can smell the lotion she's rubbed onto them, lavender. I rest my head on her knee, my cheek pressed against it as my hand runs up and down her leg. Her breathing becomes shallow and I know that I haven't lost it.

My hands find their way to her stomach- so creamy white and soft, like spreading your hand over butter. Her eyes shut and I watch her lips twist up into a blissful grin. I lay a gentle kiss near her bellybutton, before moving on.

"Miley," I say sitting up as her eyes pop open, I'm staring down at her underwear, "I want to," I pause trailing two fingers along the waistband of the white underwear, "I want to… show you."

She nods in approval and I slowly begin to slide them down, gingerly, past her thighs and legs and off her ankles, I drop the pesky clothing piece to the ground. There is a sharp intake of breath on her part. Miley's entire body is a dark red, flushed with embarrassment and ticked with a rare sense of excitement, I know, I see it in her eyes.

She sits up a little and pulls at the collar of my shirt, she gives me a look- her eyebrows come together in question. I raise both my arms to answer and she pulls off my shirt. I'm wearing one of my older beige bras; Miley plays with the straps for a brief moment then pulls both down, off my shoulders.

She presses herself against me and wraps her arms around me, her hands fumbling with my bra hook. She unclasps it with ease then falls back to the bed with a satisfied grin. I have to laugh with her because she looks so proud. We reposition ourselves on the bed, I like feeling her move under me as I straddle her. I wait for her to get settled, get used to me not having a shirt on and get used to the feeling of being practically naked in front of another woman.

We smile, and I take a deep breath.

"I don't want to hurt you," I whisper cupping her cheek, "I would never want to make you feel…," I search for a good word, "Distressed…"

She nods again and swallows, I watch her neck closely, "Lilly, I b-believe you."

Sex is different with different people, it just makes sense. No one is the same, and we take that idea to bed with one another. No one that I have ever fucked was similar; there was always a queer spark of surprise. _How will they feel, on the inside? What will they taste like? What speed of rhythm do we partake in? _

But Miley feels… different, very different from anyone else. It's this strange new texture, like velvet maybe. Our speed is slow, as I anticipated it to be. She needs to be eased into having sex, into what it means to be apart of someone, to have someone there inside a place no one has touched before with respect and love.

Miley does not resist, like I thought she would. Instead her face squirms at first, adjusting, and her hips are stiff in the beginning, but I'm helping. I kiss her brow and tickle her ear with my lips as I smile. This is not her first time; she is not too tight, though part of me wishes this was her first. I would have liked to introduce sex as a fun and love making experience, something that is to be shared and treasured.

Miley's legs feel _so_ good on my sides as she tries to close them in, trying to bring me closer and I oblige her. She hardly makes a sound, more ragged breathing and some whines that become drowned out by the sound of the rain. But then, something changes, her eyes flutter in and out and she mouths my name. I press a soft kiss to her lips as I pull out and away.

Her eyes open at once. This was her first time with another woman, I was gentle, possibly too frighten to really try anything harder.

"Oh…" Is all she says in a breathless tone, "Oh God." She repeats.

I nuzzle her neck and run one of my hands up from her leg and across her chest. "Are you okay?"

Miley nods, "It's just," She swallows, "Can we… can we do that again?"

I laugh and smile, "Miley, we can do that as many times as you want."

Her cheeks flush with color and she averts her eyes from mine in embarrassment, "Good," Is her responds as she turns over and faces me, her hand finds its way to the back of my head she plays with my hair and I close my eyes to her.

"Lilly?" She whispers, I feel her breath on my face.

"Hummm?" I murmur, suddenly feeling exhausted, but I open my eyes and see her glowing face.

"I love you."

So simple, three words, so seemingly unimportant- I mean people say it every day to friends, families; people say it and sometimes don't even mean it. But this is Miley, and here she is smiling like a five-year-old with a face so bright and hopefully and she loves me.

Me! Out of everyone in the whole world, she loves _me_.

My heart is beating so fast, and it's never felt so good until now, never have I felt this way. I kiss her- because I have too, because I adore her.

"I love you too."

And just like that, the flood gates open and water rushes in, my heart swoons and all the bad is washed away leaving me only this feeling and Miley.

**XxXxXxX**

**Author's Note: **This chapter took me longer then it should have to write. Sorry for the wait. Leave your thoughts.


	37. Deflowering The Lillie

I need to pee, pushing the covers off I stand, stretch and carefully close the bathroom door behind me

I need to pee, pushing the covers off I stand, stretch and carefully close the bathroom door behind me. As I wash my hands I peer at myself in the mirror, my hair is a little stringy, but mostly do to sleeping. I look… healthier. I smile and dry my hands; I suppose it has something to do with the fact that I quit smoking.

Miley is sitting up in the bed when I reopen the door. She looks beautiful, hair down, nightgown slipping off her shoulder slightly and her face fresh with imprinted lines from sleeping. I crawl into the bed, knowing this will be our last night together in LA I gather her up into my arms and kiss each of her cheeks.

She giggles, pushing me away. We lay in bed with the sheets rumpled underneath us, I feel good, rather horny staring at Miley as she lays with no bra and no underwear as it still rests on the ground.

She looks at me, running her fingers through my hair and playing with the hem of my sleeping shirt. And then, she kisses me, this time with tongue and greater force then before. "What are you thinking?" I ask, breathless, managing to pull my face from hers as she keep playing with my shirt and we rest our foreheads together.

"I'm thinking… I'm thinking I want you, I want all of you like you had me." She slurs huskily to me.

We lock eyes, a moment passes and for a second I'm afraid, but then I realize that this is Miley, and she will not hurt me. (She loves me! She loves me!) I nod, because I want to, badly considering everything.

She takes the lead and I smirk at her confidence, she straddles me with ease and I press both my hand onto her thighs. Her hair hangs down and brushes across my chin as she shakes her head and laughs, "Lilly, Lilly," She says, eyes so alive, so full and I'm humbled that only I get to see her this way.

She thrusts her hips in and suddenly I wonder if she's done this before because I lean my head back and let my mouth hang open. I'm exposing much of my neck and she takes the opportunity- wet lips, warm lips to my neck, feels heavenly.

"You know, ah, fuck… Miley, you don't h-h-have to do-"

She presses a finger to my lips, "When are you ever going to let me decide anything without feeling guilty, Lilly?" She questions, looking annoyed.

It's my turn to blush, as I watch her, "I'm sorry, Miley, it's just… you know something, I've loved you ever since I first saw you."

"What?" She gasps softly.

"I really, really love you and I don't want to mess things up this time," I trace the lines that rest around her mouth slowly, "So that's why I ask, Miley, that's why I always stop and ask."

She sniffs and moves back to her side of the bed, wiping her eyes, "Sometimes, God Lilly, sometimes I just don't think I deserve you."

I want to laugh, but I don't, "W-Why?"

She looks up at me and even though it is still dark, I can tell she's smiling, "Because, you understand. You get me, Lilly."

I clasp her hands and bow my hand, "No… no, Miley, I don't deserve anything… ," I feel that emotion coming back, the one that closes up my throat, "Can you tell me, please, why do you love me?" I need to know, because I don't know if I believe it myself that someone can love me, can feel that for me.

Miley places her hand to my chest, to my heart, "That's why, right here," She puts pressure on my chest, "Your heart, Lilly, your beautiful heart… now," She smiles sadly up at me, "Let me love you…" It is a precious request, a child like desire.

"Okay," I say, voice thick, raw with _feeling_.

She kisses me and I feel her lips all over, this warmth rushes down to my toes. She leaves butterfly kisses over my face as her hands drift down and I let her.

"Let me…let me…" Miley murmurs over my bare shoulder as she peels my large t-shirt off. I let her strip me of my underwear and for the first time she sees me, all of me and I feel… so exposed, so flustered and unsure, which is new.

Miley looks directly at me and I exhale, pushing all my shame and doubts away, and then she is there, she is filling a piece of me, and I melt- skin, layers I've dressed myself in, slip away, and what is left is something that Miley calls beautiful. I melt, I melt as she holds me, reassures me.

"You are my whole world…"

And I know she means it.

XxXxXxX

Miley takes the window seat this time on the airplane. My head on her shoulder, and flying high into the clouds and blue sky I feel that nothing can get me, never touch me. Our hands clasped tightly together gives me a certain unknown strength and although I know what awaits down on the ground I feel the need to live in the moment- to take what I can, breathe in the simple pleasures of now which is Miley's scent and Miley's skin.

XxXxXxX

Exiting the airport tunnel it is Oliver's face that greets me, his lopsided grin beaming and soon I spot Sarah at his side beckoning us over. Miley and her father are beside me and we walk to them, sunburned and jet lagged.

I drop my bags and open my arms, "Get over here you silly boy!" I say to Oliver as he rushes over and we embrace fully, my face in his neck and his arms squeezing me just right.

"Missed you like crazy," He admits just before we break apart. I smile and pinch his cheek and nod in agreement.

XxXxXxX

"Mom? Dad?"

The house is cold and empty; I shiver and rub my arms after setting my bags down in the foyer. There is a certain eeriness to the places that makes me uncomfortable and wish I would have taken Oliver up on his offer to hang out at his house. I begin to drag the two duffle bags up to my room; I plan on unpacking and then calling Miley.

But just as I'm about to reach the top I hear someone walking towards me from the dinning room, "Lilly is that you?"

"Mom?"

"How was your trip?" She smiles from the bottom of the stairs and I walk to her, "I'm sorry that I couldn't be there to pick you up, work was nuts this week," I reach her and she holds me close. She smells different, not bad different but just…

"My trip was great, how is dad, how are you two?" I ask her, but I don't want to know.

"We are getting there, he moved back in but he's staying in the guest bedroom for the moment," My mother's forehead becomes devoured by wrinkles as she frowns and shifts over to the living room.

I sigh because part of me had hoped that I would return and they would have realized that they loved one anther and everything would be… I suppose the word I wanted was perfect, things were supposed to be perfect. But its not.

I watch my mother fluff the couch pillows and pick the lint off the armrest. She then stops and flattens out her black skirt. My mother looks different somehow, maybe it is because I've spent so much time away that I now realize it, but my mother looks very _old_ but not just old… hopeless.

We look a lot alike I have been told. My mother and I share the same hair and eyes, the same high cheek bones… and it strikes me here and now, this new notion of- I don't want to end up like her. I panic as I watch her movements of cleaning up around the house, I watch in horror because isn't that my fate? To become my parents?

Quickly, I race up the stairs and into my bedroom, I grab my phone and dial and wait, breath caught up in my lungs… I wait a little longer, the ringing proceeds. No one answers. I swear and throw the phone down on my bed.

What have I come back to? This ugly dark house, this shredded family and when I leave, when I'm gone off to college will it worsen? Will they become strangers to me and themselves?

They are my parents, damn it! "Damn it!"

XxXxXxXxX

"Lilly?"

I see Oliver's shocked face as I stand in his doorway. I wave at him and try to smile, but he sees through in and welcomes me inside.

"I knew you wouldn't like what you came back too," He says as we walk to the kitchen, "I'm sorry, Lilly."

He gets out two mugs from the cabinet and starts making tea as I take a seat in one of the chairs, "Sometimes, Oliver, I just wish they would get a divorce, just break it off and start over." I grumble resting my chin on my crossed arms that rest on the table surface.

Oliver turns to me sharply, "No you don't, Lilly, you love your parents… things happen, but love never just leaves."

I look out the window and the setting sun burns my eyes. "But this is so much worse, seeing them like this. Fuck, _fuck_, I hate them, Oliver! I _hate_ them for giving up!" I snarl sitting up and feeling a large tightening sensation spread in my chest.

He stares sympathetically at me, "Maybe, Lilly, maybe one day it'll be different."

**XxXxXxX**

**Author's Note: **The second I pressed send for that last chapter I felt an electric shock of inspiration and I rushed to my Microsoft and begin typing. Leave your thoughts.


	38. To The Future

It's funny the consequences sex can have over a couple, it is a grand milestone that can either rip the couple apart or bring

**Author's Note: **The chapter was greatly influenced by the songs- _Passenger Seat_ by Death Cab for Cutie and _A Bitter Song_ by Butterfly Boucher- two very good songs and if you get the chance check them out.

**XxXxXxXxX**

It's funny the consequences sex can have over a couple, it is a grand milestone that can either rip the couple apart or bring them together on the most intimate level of a relationship. Sadly, sex for some couples tears them in two- it breaks hearts, sheds tears, and creates tension ending with no winners, just losers.

It has been a week since Miley and I had sex and she has blossomed before my very eyes because of it. We are more physical now then ever before, there is never a moment when our skin is not touching- hands on knees, thighs, and hand laced with hand. She will play with my hair as I talk with Oliver; she will rub my back as I jot my thoughts down in my journal. She is comfortable with herself, she is comfortable with me and it shows it glows brighter then the sun.

I count us as a lucky couple; sex has brought us joy and no grief.

XxXxXxXxX

I roll the window of Oliver's car down and lean my head slightly out the window- I want to feel the summer's breeze on my face. I close my eyes and let a smile find its way onto my lips. Oliver is driving slowly through town, its early evening and the sky is a brilliant orange. I open my eyes to see people crossing streets, shops closing up, traffic lights changing and varying in color.

"How's this?" I hear Oliver ask as he turns a corner.

I settle back into my passenger seat and smile, my sunburn cheeks tingling, "This is _just_ what I needed, Oliver." I reply with great sincerity.

"Good… I thought we needed a last goodbye, a final farewell before the big leagues, college," Oliver says with a hint of bittersweet dripping over his word.

We are driving down Main Street where the library rests on one side and city hall to the right. Trees are lined up beside the sidewalks and I feel the need to tell him, to tell my best friend that I, "I love you, Oliver, I really, _really_ do." I admit staring at him with serious eyes.

Oliver glances in my direction and a soft, but sad, smile takes hold of his mouth, "I love you too, Lilly, so much."

We share a moment of silence. In this silence, I hear the summer sounds of laughter, car engines, and wind echoing in the distance. Oliver suddenly pulls the car over to a curb and his eyes find mine.

"Promise me, Lilly," He says sucking in a quick breath, "Promise me we won't loose it…"

My voice is shaky as I answer, "I promise, I _swear_, you will always and forever be my best friend, Oliver, and we won't _ever_ loose that."

He pulls me to him; we embrace- tightly clinging to our childhood memories, middle school horrors, and now high school growth, I cling to those days and my friend, my Oliver.

We let go, hearts heavy, throats thick with unreleased tears, we let go and Oliver drives me home. As I close the car door I take a good long look at him. I'm trying to remember the way he looks right now in this lazy summer evening- brown shaggy hair askew and lop sided grin pulling at my heart and big brown eyes brimming with sadness.

There… there, it's imprinted in my mind, a snapshot of today. "All luck, Lilly, I wish you all the luck." He calls as I begin to walk up the steps to my house.

"And you go kick some ass, Oliver! Go study and be somebody, okay? Promise!" I say laughing as the corners of my eyes start to tear.

"Ass kicking? You got it!" Oliver cheers.

I watch him go, pull out of my driveway and go; I sit on my stoop with warm salty tears streaming down my face. Goodbye is torture.

XxXxXxXxX

This is not my room. My room is full of tokens and knickknacks from friends and family trips. My room has postcards, letters, and papers spread messily about each surface. My room is lively with every corner occupied with something, something that belongs. This room, the room I'm laying in, is barren- two boxes and one bag resting next to the door, ready to go, ready to move.

How can this be the same room?

My paintings and posters still take up the walls, but my closet is mostly empty, my dresser drawers stripped clean. I have only one more night to sleep in my room that is not my room… and I don't want to be alone.

Two rings and she is there, breathing life into the other line, "Lilly?"

"Please, I can't…," I hold my head back, in vain hope that the tears will roll back and not pour down my hot cheeks, "I need you…There's a spare key in-"

"I know," She finishes for me, "I know where it is, be there in ten."

The phone dies; all I have is a dial tone blaring into my ear and splitting open the silence of this empty cold house.

…She is in my doorway when I reopen my eyes and she stands there bringing in the light of the hallway to my dark bedroom while her black silhouette stretches across the floor.

"Thank-you," I whisper as Miley makes herself at home in my bed.

And so, we overlap each other, skin to skin, my whole body pressed up against her. I don't care that I'm sweating from fear of the tomorrow day, I don't care that I'm a mess, emotionally, she just whispers over and over, "I love you… I love you… I love you." And that chases all the monsters of anxiety and fear away.

"We can make it," I hear her say just before my body and mind collapse into a dreamless slumber.

_We can make it…_

XxXxXxXxX

There is something so very thrilling and sexy about waking up next to Miley. Even at seven in the morning, groggy and slightly smelly, she is beautiful. I casually throw my arm around her waist and pull her back to me. She snuggles sleepily into my neck and I kiss her head.

But then this will be the last time we do this, fuck that ruins this moment this everything! Because what if we can't make it, I mean, Miley is going to California! That's like… a lot of states away.

Grumpily I slap my hand onto my face and shield the morning sun. Don't think about… I'm not going to think about it…

"Lilly?"

I'm not going to answer her, I just going to pretend, pretend this is everlasting.

"Lilly, I'm sorry, but," She stops and I'm glad she did, I couldn't handle her saying it, saying that she needs me to let go of her and let her leave. I cuddle her close; breathe in the scent of her hair then release.

Miley slowly eases out of bed and I do the same. We make the bed together, silently and not meeting each other's eyes. As we finish, I can hear my parents downstairs in the kitchen getting ready. My parents and I are taking the train to the college where they will help me move in and then we will share an awkward goodbye.

"Walk me to my car," Miley says standing next to my bedroom door. I nod and follow her down, still in my overly sized sleeping shirt with no shorts.

Miley opens her car door and stands there watching me, not getting inside yet but rather looking to me then my house then back to me, "We will call every Sunday," She promises, "And I'll write, e-mail, everything, okay? And when fall break approaches we'll make arrangements."

"Coolness," I mumble miserably staring at my bare feet on the driveway. Miley takes my face, making me look her in the eyes and then brings us into a slow kiss, she holds me there, our lips touching, trying to store this sensation in our memories.

When we let go, Miley is sniffling and smiling all at the same time, "Okay, then, I'm going to go," She points to the car, eyes sad, "My flight leaves in two hours…" She turns to the car then quickly back to me, "This isn't goodbye, Lilly, just-"

"So long," I finish for her and she gives me a weakened grin before getting inside her car, the sound of the door closing shut makes me flinch. The roar of her engine stirs something inside me and then just like before, I watch her go, leave. And now there is no one to call, no one but my parents waiting inside to take me to my future.

I walk up the steps, up to my bathroom. I want to wash my feet, I want to bathe, just wash this whole life off of me and get ready to begin fresh, a clean slate for me awaits and its only a train ride away…

**XxXxXxXxX**

**Author's Note: **Okay, blame my friend for the lack of updates because she got me completely hooked on this television series called _One Tree Hill_. So for the past few weeks we've been watching old episodes and eating excessively. (And I've been captivated by the two girls who make up the fake couple of 'Breyton'.) Please leave your thoughts.


	39. Not At First

Author's Note: David Lipscomb College is a real college and the dorm hall listed is a real dorm building but the people and pr

**Author's Note: **David Lipscomb College is a real college and the dorm hall listed is a real dorm building but the people and professors are completely made up. Also, my _god_, everyone's reviews… you guys get me every time. I wish I could place into words what your reviews really mean, but I just can't. If I could I would give each and every one of you a _GIANT_ bear hug and whisper words of thanks over and over.

**XxXxXxXxX**

Standing from my new window I watch my parents depart, walking across the green grassy quad to catch their train home. I watch them with a lump in my throat but excitement racing through me.

The room is quant, a fairly large sized window rests dead center and colorful tile lay under my feet. My mother helped me sort and put away my clothes and my father awkwardly made my bed and carried the tiny refrigerator and microwave up. My side of the room is ready, a tasteful rug beside my bed and a large bulletin board filled with pictures of Oliver and Sarah and then Miley, perfect Miley.

My roommate has yet to check in, so I savor the moment of silence. I could've afforded a single room, but I want the full college experience- I have the money for anything I could ever hope for, but I'd rather make it on my own, for once.

I plug in my cell phone and collapse on my new bed. Classes don't start till Tuesday so I have a day to collect my schedules and tour the campus and hopefully join a club or two… too bad there's no GSA around here.

There are several things to be noted about David Lipscomb College, one being that it is first and foremost a Bible school and there are many strict rules. My handbook has one that caught my attention in particular, "_Students and faculty are prohibited from engaging in extramarital sexual relations and/or in homosexual activities. Faculty may be (and have been) fired for such activity, and students may be (and have been) dismissed for it, though not in recent years._"

I smile, I do it because of how ridiculous it sounds and because now I'm somewhat "back in the closet." But I had to come here, had to see it and experience it the way that she did- I had to see her tree.

I' am named after my grandmother, Lillian Rose Dupree-Truscott, and this was her college. My grandmother's name is carved into the wood of an old oak tree, somewhere on this campus and I have to see it, touch it. Nate and I were so close to her, so much under her spell, we her grandchildren. She told stories of her time here, the college she attended in her youth, the college where she met our grandfather, George. And I promised her I would go, promised that I would spread my wings here.

The dorm room door opens suddenly and a black haired girl appears before me, smiling widely with a hand out stretched, "Hiya! My name's Dina Jones and looks like you and I are going to be roomies!"

Oh fucking fantastic, I get the perky one, "Uh, yeah, I'm Lilly Truscott." I stand to greet her by shaking her hand then I plop right back down on my bed.

She bustles around the dorm fixing her things, unpacking her belongings, "My parents just dropped me off, I live in Smyrna Tennessee, gosh this going to be a blast, huh?" She turns to me, brushing her long black hair from her pale face, "I'm majoring in religion, I want to be a Southern Baptist Preacher, what about you?"

Shit! A preacher? Shit, someone has a sense of humor. "I'm… well I want to be a writer, plays, I want to write plays."

Dina tucks in her bed sheets and grins, "Oh, a writer, how interesting!" She then moves to her closet where she begins to organize her clothing, "So, Lilly," She starts while wrestling with a turtle neck, trying to place it on a hanger, "You leave any heart broken boys back home?"

"Not exactly I-"

"I did, my boy's name was Sam, he's going to UT, wants to be a football player." She sighs while folding a pair of blue jeans, "I'm proud of him but I wish we both could have gotten in to Lipscomb…"

I fall back onto my pillow, giving up on speaking as Dina rants on about Sam. She pulls out a photo to show me, I take a good look- the boy isn't bad looking, blond hair blue eyes- but he looks like an ass, I don't tell Dina that.

"Oh! Who's this?" She asks pointing a finger to Miley's picture as it hangs on my bulletin board.

I let my eyes linger on the photo; it was taken by Oliver one afternoon as we lounged around the house last week. Miley looks very relaxed resting in one of my armchairs, half asleep.

"That's my girlfriend." I whisper, taking my eyes away from the picture and instead to the blain white wall in front of me.

"Oh, I'm sorry; I left a lot of old girlfriends back home too." Dina remarks patting me on the shoulder softly as I inwardly smirk.

XxXxXxX

_(Three weeks later…) _

Say goodbye to privacy and hello to community bathrooms! Whoever came up with this cruel joke should be punished. Honestly, sharing a bathroom with the entire hall?! I love girls but, damn, they take forever in the bathroom! Grumbling, I walk down my dorm hall wrapped in nothing but a towel with wet hair and soggy flip flops that are practically slipping off my feet. I reach my dorm room and fumble through my bag trying to find my room key.

"Need some help?" Dina is next to me smiling, holding out my room key, "You left it next to your bed this morning, again."

I roll my eyes and laugh, "I really need to be more careful."

I unlock the door and we slip inside. Dina isn't so bad, she's clean, goes to bed early and is fairly quiet when it comes to school and studying and shit. We have our own separate desks, mine is next to my bed by the window and hers is on the opposite side- so we have our own space.

I'm getting dressed as Dina hunches over her desk, looking over her notes for tomorrows lecture. I finish and dig through my pant's pocket for spare change as I'm about to open the door I reach for my room key, Dina smirks at me then says, "Going to call Miley?"

"Sure am!" I tell her with a grin.

Dina nods, "That's great, you two sure are close friends."

"Closer then you think…"

The payphone at the end of the hall brings me a great amount of excitement. I pick it up and dial with a new sense of speed. Three rings and then, "Hello?"

Ah, the simple pleasure of her voice! "What's shaking' baby?" I snicker into the phone.

"Lilly!" She shouts, clearly amused, on the other line, "It's so good to hear from you, I'm sorry our last call was cut sort but class is killing me."

I feel my heart sadden at her stressful nature, "It's okay, you're busy with school as am I Miley…"

She sounds exhausted as we speak of work and class and new found friends, I just don't know what to do to cheer her up. I check my watch, it's been an hour. I let Miley finish telling me about the new dance before jumping in again, "Don't worry, Miles, it'll be fall break before you know it! And then you can come visit me!"

I hear her laughing softly, "I can't wait." There's a long silence and then, "Well I better get going…"

I lean up against the brick wall of the dorm hallway and lick my lips, a coy smile appearing there, suddenly, "You know Miley, you don't _have _to go so soon, we could always…" I trail off suggestively.

"What? Oh, god, Lilly!" She howls with laughter, "No for the millionth time, no I will not have phone sex with you."

"Party poopers!" I protest like a five-year- old.

She sighs happily, "Every party needs one."

I become serious, "Bye, Miley… I lo-love you."

"Goodbye, Lilly… I hate that word, I _hate _it." She stops and I wonder if she's crying or not, "I love you too."

We hang up. I exhale sharply and walk back to my room, back to my studies.

XxXxXxX

_Me_: "But why would you say that?"

You: "Because nothing makes sense anymore, that's why."

_Me_: "You're leaving me?"

You: "Yes."

_Me_: "Why?"

You: "It's for your own good."

_Me_: "But I lo-"

You: "Don't say it, don't you dare say it!"

… I stop and put my pen down, I stop because I hate what I'm writing, I stop because I haven't felt inspired in over a month. Dina is out for the evening and I'm bored- she usually plays card games with me or helps me study for biology exams. But tonight I' am alone and I can't call Miley to come over and amuse me or be with me because she is so far away… _so far away_.

I ripe the paper out from my spiral notebook with a new found rage. I crumple the shitty writing piece and throw it down. I hate this. I hate everything. I lean back in my wooden desk chair and listen to the air vent hum and the students opening and closing doors as they walk, laughing, carefree and together. I hate them. I hate happy people. I look up at my pictures, at my friends, at my Miley.

I breathe in and out, it's only one more week, one more week and she will be here, with me. I can make, I can fucking make it.

**XxXxXxX**

**Author's Note: **I'd also like to thank everyone for understanding my delayed updates due to my new fascination with _One Tree Hill_ (Breyton does indeed rock, **Phia03**).

**--**

**Ace Ian Combat- **These girls have gone through many hardships, but they are no where _near _finished, many more battles are to come. So far its nothing compared to what I've got planned. Thanks for your complement.

**Pink Starship- **Intriguing comparison of the _Titanic _characters with Miley and Lilly- I would have never thought of that. I'm glad you enjoy my Oliver scene (I've got a big ol' soft spot for that goof.) Thank-you for sharing with me.

**hermione032192- **I'm so sorry to hear that you had a similar 'goodbye' experience; I do hope everything works out… Also, I will try my best but Ms. Bush does have some ungodly power over me. Thanks for stopping in and commenting.

**Tigger-Babe- **I'm so happy to hear that you're all caught up and still enjoying the story, thank-you so much for your kind words.

**soxx****- **You know something, I don't connect this story with Hannah Montana either. It's blown up into something completely different for me while writing it. Also, I've always wanted to be a writer, even if no one or only one person reads my books, I'll still write because its something I love. Thank-you for writing to me.

**Deka Lopez Granger****- **There will be brief time skips through Lilly's college time- meaning I'll fast-forward possibly months or weeks into the future. Also, yes OTH is a marvelous show and I love the Breyton relationship, but I don't know if I'll write for them or not. But then again who knows, I once also said I'd never write Liley (and we know how well that turned out…)

**xTexasgalx****- **The Oliver friendship is one to be envied, indeed, and I love every scene with Ollie- I wanted him to be that fairy tale friend, always there, always understanding, and always loyal. Also, you'll just have to see what time away does to the girl's relationship. Always a pleasure getting words from you…

**Kurrent****- **Hey you're back! It seems like you've been away for ages! Anyway just know that both of your reviews did not go unnoticed. Any yes, I did separate them for many reasons in order create more problems and much more heartache- which will be later shown. I love hearing from you, thank-you, a thousand times thank-you.

**--**

**Author's Note: **Again, my god, everyone's reviews were too much, so much and I feel so very privileged to have you guys as my readers and reviewers- honestly, other writers should be jealous of how wonderful you are. Leave your thoughts


	40. Clear The Lenses

Mr

Mr. Walsher is ugly; he is an ugly old man that just happens to teach my creative writing class. My stomach growls as I stare up at the clock in deep set anticipation. Mr. Walsher licks his fat fingertips with his tongue and flips the page of my story, leaving his salvia there on my page, I cringe.

I hate him, more so then anyone else at this point. Mr. Walsher is bald… aside from the hair growing from his ears and nostrils. He is the type of teacher that enjoys wearing bowties that match the school colors (purple and yellow). He adjusts his large black framed glasses that lay pressed up against his piggish face and gruffly clears his throat.

We are sitting in his office, classes are done for the day and it is officially fall break. Unfortunately I cannot join my fellow classmates in celebration because for the afternoon I belong to Mr. Walsher as we review my assignment which was to free write a short story.

Mr. Walsher purses his plump lips and squints his beady eyes at my story before pulling out a red pen and marking something, "Sentence fragment, again." He declares while readjusting his position in his exceptionally large brown chair.

He lets go of my story, lets it flop back to the desk, and stares at me with a very annoyed frown. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Truscott, but this story will not suffice."

When does _free writing_ have rules? "I'm not sure I comprehend what it is that you are saying professor Walsher." I state with a level voice, no need to lose my temper.

"You're short story is far from acceptable," The prick says scratching the bridge of his nose.

I breathe in from my nose and out from my mouth to calm myself, "Would care explaining that to me?"

He pushes the twenty or so stapled sheets of paper to me, "Firstly, your characters used very foul and inappropriate language," I can see by the look on this ass's face he is enjoying telling me off, "Second your protagonist was a drug dealer and thirdly, there were many hints to homosexual behaviors through out the dialog," He stops, glares angrily then proceeds, "As I said, not acceptable."

I clench my fists under the table, I do not have _fucking _time for this shit, "But it was _free write_, as I so vividly remember you said we could use our 'boundless imagination,' Professor Walsher, are you restricting me to rules for writing?"

He locks eyes with me, Walsher and I have not gotten along well since the beginning of school and now three months into the year we are already ready and willing to bite each other's head off.

"Ms. Truscott," My name coming from him has a certain sharp bite to it, leading me to believe he is at the end of his rope, "Do not assume I don't know you or your parents. I' am well aware of your past records of reckless behavior…" He stops sniffs and pats his purple bowtie with yellow strips before going on, "I personally was not keen on having you enrolled here, I' am sorry but I do not believe you are David Lipscomb material and my thoughts are proven just by your recent writings."

Fuck you! Fuck you, you stupid mother fucking prick! _God_, I' am biting so hard on my inner cheeks that I taste blood. Both my hands are balled up into tight knuckle whitening fists. I will not let him get to me; I will not let him-

"In any case," He sounds bored as he talks, "You are here and in my class, so I will permit you to re-write another free write prompt and it must be handed in the following Monday after fall break, are we clear?"

I' am going to kill him, I' am going to kill him and it will be slow and painfully. "Can I ask you just one question, Professor Walsher?"

"I suppose."

"Was it any good? Aside from being as you said, 'inappropriate,' was my story well written?"

He stands, places his other documents inside his desk drawer and shakes his head, "Ah, no, no it was not, Ms. Truscott, it was wannabe exceptionally ordinary trash."

My stomach drops, I' am not hungry anymore.

XxXxXxX

I will not cry, I will not let him get under my skin and make me cry, "Aw, _fuck_," I hiss rubbing my teary eyes and leaning back in my desk chair back in my dorm. Dian is gone and I' am thankful, if she were here she would ask a million questions and then attempt to cheer me up and there is only one person in the world who can-

"Knock, knock?"

I turn around in my chair and the breath is suddenly knocked out of me, I gasp for air as I say her name, "Miley?!"

She giggles, standing in my doorway holding a bag with one hand and the other gripping my doorknob. "Hello, Lilly…"

I stand and practically leap into her arms. She feels so good, so safe. As I pull away I take notice of her new look. Miley is wearing tighter more fashionable clothing that shows off just the tiniest bit more skin then her usual style. Her hair is stick straight… it's not bad, nothing about her is, neither the heavier make-up nor fancier shoes, it's just… I miss my curly haired, modest girlfriend. But then she shuts the door and presses her lips to me and suddenly I really don't give a flying fuck about her new look- because she is kissing me and slowly unbuttoning my jeans.

"I'm sorry," She laughs softly and just like that Miley is blushing a deep red and she is my Miley again, "I just _really, really _missed you." She finishes then cups my cheeks and forcefully brings me close.

XxXxXxXxX

"Oh _G-God_!" She moans slamming the palm of her hand against the wall and with the other hand grabs a fist full of my hair and pulls, hard, but I kind of like it. As Miley rides out the feeling that I' am pushing through her body I smile into her stomach and lick up the sweet sweat.

We are making up for lost time by having sex right here at my Bible school that is afraid of lesbians on my dorm room bed with the door shut and locked closed while some song by _Plump _blasts over my radio- Mr. Walsher who?

I'm not sure what brought this on, especially considering how shy Miley is about sex, but I really don't care enough to look into it, because shy Miley is biting my earlobe.

XxXxXxX

Face pressed into Miley's neck I breathe out an exhausted sigh as we lay tangled in my bed sheets with the late afternoon sun shining down warming our naked skin. She plays with the hairs on my arm and hums a low tune.

I yawn and pull the sheets up around my chest, "When does the train leave?"

"Around six, I think…," Miley answers leaning back, trying to see the time on the clock, "Yeah, so we've got an hour and thirty minutes."

"I'm glad you surprised me. I thought we were supposed to meet back home," I tell her sitting up and moving over to give her more room on my small twin sized bed.

She shrugs, moving a pillow to rest behind her, "I couldn't wait that long and besides there was an early flight and I took it straight here," Miley tilts her head and looks at me happily, "I really missed you, Lilly, more then you know."

"Like wise."

We kiss a good long kiss where my hands snake up around her neck and her arm wraps loosely around my waist. Perfect.

XxXxXxXxX

"LILLY!" Is the very first sound I hear walking into my house, next is Oliver rounding the hallway corner and colliding with me in a close embrace. "Lilly, _man_, is it good to see you!"

Miley and I drop our bags with a loud thud and walk slowly into the kitchen where my mother is cooking and my dad is sitting at the table looking nervous and unsure. He crosses his legs then uncrosses them. My mother gives me a quick peck on the cheek and a close one armed hug. My dad shakes my hand. It is better, not great but better, at least my dad moved back into the house and they don't look angry or like they've been fighting just before I came in.

"How's school?" My mom asks while placing a bowl of mashed potatoes down on the dinning room table.

I'm sitting in between Miley and Oliver as everyone begins to fill their plates. Oliver and I fight over the broccoli but Miley just sips her water, not touching anything. I give her a sympathetic glance, I know this is awkward for her.

"School is fine, nothing special…" I honestly have no intentions of bringing up my short story or anything else for that matter, school has never been one of my strengths- everything is harder, tenser, freshmen all around me there are homesick and constantly giving the 'deer in the headlights' look. The work load is just bearable but I feel myself sinking, slowly, yet it's there, the idea of failure.

XxXxXxXxX

I'm driving down one of the back roads of town, it's shitty and gravel. Ernie is whining and tumbling over the rocks, but bouncing up and down seems fun tonight with the windows rolled down and _Tegan and Sara_ blasting through the speakers. Miley is beside me fumbling with the volume while Oliver and Sarah make out in the back seat. We are going to the last drive-in that the town puts on, because soon it will be too cold and no one wants to sit around freezing their asses off.

But tonight the air is crisp and perfect, autumn is bleeding through my soul and I love it with all my heart. The changing leaves and cloudy skies bring out the poet in me. I place my hand on Miley's knee as I park in a grassy area far from most of the cars. Oliver and Sarah stop sucking face long enough to see which movie is playing, _Breakfast at Tiffany's_.

I snuggle close to Miley and breathe in the scent of her hair, the movie goes but I do not notice it, I take mental pictures of Miley's face and legs, because soon we will be pried apart again and I went to remember, remember…

**XxXxXxXxX**

**Author's Note: **Hopefully you found that rather enjoyable to read, anyway, leave your thoughts.


	41. Because It Is Done

I need new window shades, better shades that can easily block out all traces of the sunlight

I need new window shades, better shades that can easily block out all traces of the sunlight. Because when I' am sad and feeling so very miserable the last thing I want is the sun to shine down and warm me.

I lie in my bed inside my old room and realize that it just doesn't fit me anymore; I just don't complete the space as I once did. I' am an outcast in the place I once found sanctuary, the one place I could shut out everything else and be myself. And Mr. Walsher's words only add to my depression.

Without Miley or Oliver to comfort and distract me I'm left with only my thoughts, never a good thing. I'm left with only semidarkness and a wounded ego. He said my writing was _trash_, was _nothing_. I have built my future around my writing, my so called talent that Mr. Gunter promised and praised to me. Well, that was all bullshit. What do I have now? What will I major in, where am I going? I can't expect to live off my trust fund and depend on my parent's wealth forever.

I stare at the ceiling and push all the oxygen from my lungs in one harsh, forced breath. I hold my breath in, holding it… holding it… not breathing not- I open my mouth and gasp, filling myself with air. _Fuck_.

My eyes wander and I find my stare lingering over the desk drawer where I secretly stash my old writing pieces. Feeling a certain sense of rage bubble and sizzle inside my chest I stand, shoulders hunched, fists clenched, I walk over to desk and fling open the drawer harshly.

I yank out the loose papers and dusty notebooks filled with my words, my _trashy_, _original_ words. In a blind whirl of my wild temper I start to tear my works, I start to shred my writing- the sound of ripping paper fills me, sets me off even further.

I gather the notebooks, the extra papers and throw them into my metal trashcan that rests inside my bathroom. Mind racing, racing so fast I can't really breathe; I fumble through my dresser drawers and smile wickedly at my found object- a lighter.

Flicking up a flame I lean in and light fire to my words, the fire burns and crackles, papers crumple and turn to a dark brown. I stand, staring, face stone and emotionless as I watch my future take up in smoke, there, I'm done.

XxXxXxX

"I just don't understand you, Lilly, why would you set a fire inside the house?"

My mother is glaring angrily at me as I sit on the living couch with folded hands and a bitter feeling in my gut.

"You are not a little girl anymore, you are a college student and I expect better from you," She snarls pacing back and fourth shaking her head, "Are you nuts? What if the fire spread? You be thankful that the smoke alarms went off and your father put it out in time."

I'm not going to answer; I'm not even going to look her in the eyes. I just keep my eyes glued to my bare feet and bite my tongue.

"You are scaring me, Lilly," Her words sting me.

XxXxXxXxX

I can't really explain how I get like this- a mess, a gloomy, self-pitying mess. I don't want to call Miley because she is spending the day with her dad, and since they've spent three months apart, I'm sure they have a lot to catch up on. So, instead I call Oliver and here he is, sitting on the side of the tub smiling weakly as I pull my legs up to my chest and rest my head on top of my knees while sitting inside my white fortress, my tub.

"I wish you wouldn't do this to yourself." He admits running a hand over the hot and cold knobs of the tub.

"Well then let's not talk about my depression… how's school going?" My attempt at a different subject works as Oliver nods and shrugs.

"Hard, but I expected it to be so," His faces lights up as he continues, "Did I tell you, I finally decided to major in education."

"No, and that's wonderful, I could see you as a teacher." I pat his shoulder and he gives me a look that translates into, 'well what about you?'

"How's Sarah?" I ask ignoring his look.

Oliver rubs his eyes tiredly, "She's fine, and she's decided to become a school consular. I'm really happy for her… its great having her there with me at college."

"It's good to see someone's life blossoming." I snap at him, but only because I'm slightly jealous.

"What are you talking about? You and Miley are fine!"

I lean my head back and slide deeper into the tube, "That's just it! I don't know if we are! Didn't she seem weird to you?"

Oliver scratches his chin, "Well, sure, she's got new clothes and…," He stops, "And I did find it odd that she never touched her dinner, I mean I know your mom can't cook that well, but still." Oliver adds humorously,

I slap his arm playfully, "No, not dinner, just… her mannerisms." I shake my head and pull my hair up into a pony tail, "Maybe I'm just looking for trouble."

"You? Trouble? Never!" Oliver exclaims happily while swinging a leg over the side of the tub and climbing inside with me.

He pulls me close and I rest my head on his chest and sigh tiredly, "It's just, sometimes I wonder," I tell him while playing with his shirt hem, "I sometimes wonder which Miley I fell in love with. It seems that she's changing and I'm not moving with her."

"That's crazy talk, people change Lilly and so have you! Just look how far you've come since last year." He says excitedly.

"Like what?"

"Well, for starters, you got rid of Lauren-"

"Correction," I say butting in and holding up one finger, "Lauren left me."

"But you turned her back down over summer," Oliver reminds me with a smirk, "And you quit smoking and you got into college without your parents money, and lastly, Lilly, you fell in love."

I' am silent and Oliver doesn't speak instead he holds me and we lay in the cool tub and ponder these new revelations.

XxXxXxXxX

My shirt is off and lying somewhere on Miley's bedroom floor. She is exploring the ticklish spots on my stomach. Her lips relax me on our last full day of fall break. Her hair is still straight and I remind myself to later ask her to leave it curly next time.

I stroke the back of her neck as she kisses the skin next to my bellybutton. I like this, but I think we should talk, about what? I don't know but I want to her hear voice.

"Hey," I pull her face up to me and she gives me a strange look, "How about we chat, hum?"

Miley sighs, it comes off to me as an annoyed sigh. She settles herself in an upright Indian style sitting position and I mimic her.

"What do you want to talk about?"

I shrug, "Stuff? How's school?"

She shakes her head and frowns, "I really, _really_ don't want to talk about school right now."

This confuses me greatly, she loves school, she loves dance- what the fuck? "Why not?"

Miley pinches the skin between her eyes and lets out a frustrated groan, "Because I just don't."

I fold my arms over my chest and glare at her, "What the fuck is up with you today?"

Miley holds up a hand to me, "Don't start with me."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" I growl, feeling my skin become hot and not in a good way.

Her shoulders slump and I instantly regret using such a foul tone, "I'm sorry, Lilly, I'm just… frazzled with everything and it's our last day and I'm going to miss you and… I just don't want to think."

I understand I do so much that I take her into my arms and kiss her nose, "It's going to fine, you'll see."

She smiles, but it doesn't quite reach her eyes, and that really scares me.

**XxXxXxX**

**Author's Note: **Man! I almost had a heart attack when I saw those reviews! You guys are fast! In any case- thank-you. Also, I noticed everyone's uncertain reaction to Miley and that's good, be nervous! Watch out. Another thing, about Lilly's college dilemma and dealing with the fact that homosexuality is not accepted there- I'm not going to touch on that a lot because, well, the whole religion battle I'm saving for _Sunday School Rules_ (which I will go back to after this story is done.) And besides let's just say Lilly won't have to worry about it for long. Leave your thoughts.

_**Answering Questions: **_

**mephisto20100****- **I think I'm getting mixed signals on your review, are you not happy with the length? Anyway, I know how I want the story to end, but I still have more things planned for Lilly and Miley, so I'm not really sure how many more chapters… a lot? Hopefully that's not a bad thing for you.

**an amazing lover****- **Chapter four is when readers are introduced to Ernie, Lilly's car. I can honestly say there was no reasoning for that name, only that I think it is a funny car name. (Also, what other story has the name Ernie? Just wondering…)

**theshadowswhisper****- **I can't really explain Miley's change right now because it will give everything that is to come away. So you'll just have to wait and see!

Oh and Welcome **Bonzodog**! I'm glad you took a chance on my story and read all 40 chapters in one sitting- pretty damn impressive.


	42. The Birth Of Dirt

"Like a dance, like a sweeping gesture of a woman's dress- autumn fades with the crumpling and browning of each fallen leaf…"

**Author's Note: **Chapter inspired by the real Dina (whose name isn't really Dina) that gave me a somewhat similar speech late last night.

**XxXxXxXxX**

"_Like a dance, like a sweeping gesture of a woman's dress- autumn fades with the crumpling and browning of each fallen leaf…" _ I stare down at my notebook paper in disgust. I tap my pen furiously on my desk. Where are my words? I have them, I have them inside me but I just cannot place them into words.

Dina is snoring and I cannot concentrate worth shit. It's so early, and I'm tired- my eyes feel heavy but my body and mind won't let me rest properly. Fall break has ended and classes start up again today. My parents allowed me to drive Ernie back to school this time, the three hour drive alone was a well needed time to reflect.

But my mind rushes back to Miley and her face, her eyes that bore deeply into mine that day when I left. She seemed so _sad_, so unsettled and I couldn't do anything but kiss her lips and whisper a soft goodbye which, if possible, seemed to break her spirit. What can I do for her?

Dian turns over in her sleep and lets out a loud snort I cringe and get up from my seat. I need a shower.

XxXxXxX

At three o'clock in the morning, the community bathrooms are barren and completely mine. I take my time undressing inside the small enclosed shower. I throw my green towel up and over the shower curtain and then twist the knob- the water is freezing at first and I let out a loud yelp. "Fuck!"

And then it is warm and I moan under its heat, because nothing has felt this good in such a long time. I wash my whole body, I scrub mercilessly over my skin, trying to shed my old layers and birth a new me. I want to be different; different because she is changing and so is everyone else.

And that scares me.

To change means to let other things go, old things go and I'm scared that Miley will consider me old and apart of anther life that does not belong to her anymore and then she will leave me. I couldn't handle that.

I wash my face and rub my eyes as my chest overflows with grief. I hang my head and let the water pound on my neck and back and it feels good but also painful because the water is so hot that it's almost cold and it hurts. I gasp at the feeling, the way the water almost pricks at me and I feel so alone, so overwhelmed with life.

XxXxXxX

I open the door as quietly as I can; the cool air conditioning creates chill bumps up and down my arms and legs. I close the door and turn, a light flicks on and I jump.

"Ah!" I shout, hand flinging to my chest.

"Hey, Lilly," Dina smiles in the lamp light, her lips curving into a smile, "I was wondering where you went."

"Well, I was in the shower," I say throwing my dirty clothes into the hamper and placing my toothbrush and comb on top of my dresser.

"Are you okay?" She asks me as I sit onto my bed and grab my notebook.

I shrug and turn a couple of pages inside the spiral pad, "Sure," I answer, suddenly annoyed as hell at her.

"If you ever want to… well, talk, I'm here, Lilly, keep that in mind?" Dina offers softly.

"What are you getting at?"

Dina faces me while sitting in her bed, hair messily pulled up into a bun and reading glasses perched on her nose, "Alright, I'm a pretty straight shooter so I'm just going to dive right into this, okay?"

"By all means," I reply dryly while making a sweeping gesture of my hand.

"Does the reason for your depressed attitude have anything to do with your close friend, Miley? Or should I say _girlfriend_?"

_Fuck_- that's it that's all that is running through my head a million miles a minute- _Fuck_. Dina sees my shocked face and quickly holds up both her hands, "Don't worry! Lilly, I wouldn't say anything, not a word!"

"H-How do you know about us?"

She shyly lowers her head, "Remember when you thought I was sleeping and you called Miley one time a month ago?"

My life is over, I do very distinctly remember calling Miley that evening. I thought Dina was out cold, and I spoke very "openly" with Miley about things- about how excited I was about seeing her… and, well, touching her.

"Dina, please I-"

She shakes her head, "I'm pretty opened minded, Lilly, I mean give me some credit. I know I probably scared you when I said I wanted to be a preacher, right?"

I nod my head quickly and she laughs quietly.

"I thought so," She says while giggling, "But I want you to know that this is exactly _why_ I want to jump into the religious field! People are so judgmental and cruel! I want to spread peace, Lilly, I want to reawaken Christians."

Mouth slightly hung ajar I gawk wildly at Dina as she stares dreamily out the window. "I'm so happy you're my roommate…" I blab suddenly.

"Good, now…," Dina lowers her voice into a serious tone, "Is there anything you would like to talk about?"

I think it's weird how I suddenly _want _to tell her everything. But looking into her eyes, seeing that kind of trust, I feel like I have to almost, "I don't know where to start." I answer while scratching my ear.

Dina smiles, "Well, that's silly! Start at the beginning…"

And I do, my mouth opens and words just start pouring out like a waterfall. I tell her about my family, Nate, Oliver, and Miley. I open up my whole world to her and she listens intently.

XxXxXxX

"I think it's very simple, Lilly," Dina says while we watch the sun rise, "There is only one question- do you love her?"

"But it's _not_ easy! Not _simple_, why does everyone say that?" I protest flinging my arms out.

"No, I meant the question, the question is easy, Lilly- do you love her?" Dina repeats, eyes blazing into mine fiercely.

I close my eyes, I'm so tired now, so drained and to think I have classes to deal with today. But with closed eyes, and the sun's morning rays finding me and warming my skin, I have to think of her- have to remember that rainy afternoon we made love. The trust watering her eyes that day, the tender feel of her hands on my cheeks- it is so easy, "…Yes...," I breathe out quickly in a hushed whisper.

"Good, now the hard parts, I don't think Miley is going to leave you Lilly. You two have shared _so much_ over that last year of high school, grown very close and being pried apart this way, separated like this," Dina shakes her head and throws her bed sheets off of her, "You need her, just like she needs you right now. From the way you described Miley, then and now, I'd say there's something really wrong with her."

I swallow hard in my dry throat and let my legs dangle off the side of the bed, "But how do I fix it! I'm here!"

Dina gets up from her bed and starts gathering her clothes for the day, "I don't know… Maybe I should ask you if this is what you want, I mean, is this the school for you?" She pulls open her dresser drawer and finds a comb inside. I watch Dina fix her hair and sit in a complete silence.

"I understand that you wanted to be here for your grandmother and your brother, and that's beautiful, Lilly, it really is," Dina stops brushing and smiles at me, "But I think you need to sit down and decide what _you_ want. No what your parents think you want or even what Miley thinks you want… Lilly, what do you want?"

I want to write god damn it! "I want to write…," I answer softly.

"Then write!" Dina shouts.

"But what about Mr. Walsher?" I ask timidly.

Dina rolls her eyes and sets down her comb, "Honestly, Lilly, Mr. Walsher is a complete idiot and the only reason he picks on you is because you're a great writer and he's jealous… I mean have you ever come across anything written by him?"

I shake my head and laugh. It is quiet now; all I hear is Dina slipping into her flip flops, getting ready to go take a shower. As her hand rests on the doorknob she turns to me, "You're a great girl, Lilly, I just think you need to figure things out. I mean do you even like school?"

"No," I snort getting up from my bed. We share a smile together, "Thanks, Dina, I really needed this."

She brushes off the complement and grins, "No need to thank me, this is what I want to do with me life- help people find their way."

She walks out the door and it shuts softly behind her. The dorm room is silent and I gaze out the window, it's only just now six in the morning. Getting into a pair of sneakers I walk out the room.

XxXxXxXxX

The air cannot be described other then it is cool and good, feels good on my face. The campus grounds are wet with morning dew and I walk right through it, my sneakers sinking into the damp earth.

I pass the English and science hall with a stern stone face, my hands unclenched and my arms swinging slowly it is then, far across the quad and away from most commotion of the school that I find her magnificent tree.

Strong and sturdy it stands with its mighty trunk and beautifully colored leaves of gold and red. I take it in with a weak breath and then approach it with a heavy heart.

_Grandma_

Her name is there, I trace my fingers over it and wish I could find some meaning behind it, but here seeing it, I feel my faith in her and in life slowly drain from me. I press my cheek to the bark and shut my eyes. I smell the wood but the hard bark rubs harshly like sandpaper across my cheek and I give up.

I pull away- this is an empty tree.

I sit down and pull at the grass, grabbing fists full of the green wet earth and yanking them up only to throw them aside. I do this several more times until a gust of late October wind slaps me.

I rest my back against the tree and let the wind chill me and thrill me with its icy embrace. I should listen to Dina… I should listen… what do I want? It's such an easy phrase, easy question- but I don't _know_.

As the wind fades I'm left with a new sense of things. I press my back deeper into the tree trunk- it's _not_ an empty tree- not. If she is dead, if my grandmother is gone and put to the earth then she is dirt and the roots of this tree thrive off dirt. And if he is dead, if my brother is gone and put to the earth then he is dirt as well and so they are with me, here, with me in the shape of a tree and in the chill of wind.

_What do I want?_

Family.

**XxXxXxXxX**

**Author's Note: **Sorry if this chapter in any context bored you, mostly it was inner monolog for Lilly and that's what I wanted it to be- because this is not just a love story, that is only a very small fraction, this is a story about the Lilly character. The reviews given are treasured, thank-you. Leave your thoughts.


	43. Counting Fables

Author's Note: Readers/Reviewers

**Author's Note: **Readers/Reviewers! Seriously, don't sweat it if you cannot comment on every chapter- I'm not some evil review hungry writer who demands x amounts of reviews before she writes again. I just don't roll that way; I'm too mellow to roll that way. You write to me when you can, when the mood finds you that is all I ask. (That and of course to enjoy my story- if that isn't too selfish to say.)

**XxXxXxXxX**

Head down to my desk, I try to obtain a certain amount of dignity as I hold the piece of paper, the piece of paper that reviles my progress so far this year. I' am failing creative writing because I will not give in to Mr. Walsher's absurd rules. I' am failing math because numbers are not my friends. I' am failing in every way.

And the person who I thought could cheer me up hasn't made any contact with me in three weeks. I now know what falling apart feels like. Why hasn't she written? What did I do so wrong? I want to shake her; I want to grab onto her shoulders firmly and shake her over and over and scream as loud as I can.

"_Why are you doing this to me? What have I done?!"_

I need contact, I need to touch base and make sure she is alright, but I can't do that until she calls me, writes to me. All my mail has gone unanswered, my e-mails sent have never been returned and my phone calls all end with an answering machine and a loud shrill _beep_!

And now my school, my future is dying. I wish I could believe Dina's words, I wish I could have faith in her god. But my mind is too tired and body is losing this battle. Hours studying, not eating properly, and never sleeping, it is all pulling me down. Alone in my dorm I pull out my blue notebook. I uncap my black pen and just start writing, I write because there is nowhere else to place this emotion- Miley has left me, maybe not physically but emotionally she has cast me out at the moment I need her the most. So I write, because today my black pen is my only friend.

XxXxXxX

I hold my pillow to my chest as my heart feels like it will burst into a million pieces at any moment. Why am I filled with this deep longing of her touch? Why do I ache to kiss the corners of her mouth? I _need_ my Miley.

Dina is sitting at her desk typing on her laptop and I watch her work. I focus all my attention on her fingers and the sound each key makes. It is soothing and it clams my tattered mind.

Dina finishes her homework and flings both her arms up in the air, "Victory is mine!" She shouts in triumph, "I' am _finally _done with the awful history report! What about you, Lilly?"

Fuck. I shake my head and stare up at the ceiling, "I haven't exactly started…"

"It's due before winter break… that's in two days," She says as I hear her getting up from her chair, the side of my bed dips as her weight takes up the edge of the mattress, "Lilly, you've got to pick yourself up. I'm sorry about Miley, but you don't deserve that kind of treatment."

"You don't know what the hell you're talking about!" I snap sitting up, "You don't know Miley! You don't know anything about us!"

Dina holds up both her hands in defense, "That may be, Lilly, but I think it's time you were the one to pull yourself up."

"What's _that_ supposed to mean?" I snarl clutching my pillow.

Dina shrugs her shoulders, "You had Oliver… when you're brother died and you had Miley when your parents started to fight. It seems that there has always been someone around…And ma-maybe its time for you to be strong, on your own."

I sit for a moment, I watch Dina get up and move over to her side of the room. She takes out her Bible and sits on her bed and flips it open and begins her nightly study.

"I'm sorry," I whisper after another moment, "I'm just… I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry," Dina says not looking up from her book, "Just fix it."

"But how?"

She looks up and a wicked grin spreads across her pale features, "Duh, go get your girl."

XxXxXxX

Ernie is fully gassed and ready to go. I've packed one bag completely stuffed and almost over flowing with all my shit, that bag I toss in the seat next to me. Next there's my case filled with road trip CDs and finally I have my cooler filled with various snacks and bottled water- lets do it!

It's three in the morning and I'm pulling out and away from the campus. The December air feels right as I roll down my window and turn up the volume on my radio. I'm cold and excited and nervous and scared. A ten hour trip, if I drive right through… ten hours and then I will see her, I'm determined as hell and nothing will get in my way.

_Go get your girl_.

It's so easy.

XxXxXxX

The dark highway lays out stretching into an endless black line of forever. With the windows now rolled up and the heater on I shiver and tap my thumbs to my music and listen to Ernie whine while wind gushes over the top hood. My eyes are a little tired but that's okay because I've got coffee resting in the drink cup. My heart is hammering in my chest as I watch each road sign telling me that I'm getting closer.

This is crazy, I keep telling myself, so crazy but that's what keeps me going, the insanity and confident hope that I will see Miley. This is crazy and I love it because the closer I get, the more I can taste her.

XxXxXxXxX

California is a big and scary place when entering by your lonesome. The heat is scorching and I unroll my windows and gaze at this world around me. I'm tired and sore from being cramped up in this tiny car, but I'm here. Only, it's different this time, not as flashy, not as awe inspiring as it was with Miley by my side. This time it seems… fast, too fast as I drive down a busy street nearing the ballet school.

Honking horns, angry shouts, and a burning sun ahead that does not seem to fit the December month pass by me as I drive on with a now nervous sweat beginning to form on my brow- but the word _almost_ lingers on my lips. (Almost there.)

XxXxXxXxX

I lock Ernie's doors and leave my luggage inside the car under the seat, you can never be too careful in a city like this. I've parked on the side of the ballet school on floor B2 and now I'm inside an elevator taking me back down to the street.

A light ding and the doors open up to the sunshine and a long sidewalk stretching across and around the large ballet building. I walk under the shade of the pavilion and breathe everything in and let it out with a shaky breath, I can't explain why I'm so nervous right now. I just spent over eleven hours in a smelly old car and I didn't even call, I'm just going to show up unannounced. What if she's busy or annoyed that I didn't say anything… but, wait, how would I know, she never talks to me.

I sprint across the sidewalk. My arms pumping, the hot wind on my face I sprint around the depressing brown building and to the large black glass doors. My clammy hands push the door open and I collide with large gusts of cold air. The extreme change in temperature makes me shiver and I rub my arms up and down as I stand in awe of the main lobby.

I scratch my head and try to remember which floor and room number Miley is on. Turning on my heels I let my hands slide in my pockets. I stand staring at the empty desk facing me and bit my bottom lip in frustration. I drove all this way and now what? Oh, great plan, fuck, I'm a moron.

"Lilly?"

I jump, letting out a tiny squeal. My eyes meet Adrianna's and I feel myself pale. Her looks have decreased not; here she stands, with one hand fluffing her long black hair and the other on her hip. She is just as beautiful as the day I met her, dark eyes and red lips, beautiful.

"Miley never said you were coming…" Adrianna states rising a perfectly thin eyebrow at me.

"She doesn't know." I mumble under my breath as I avert my eyes from hers and stare at the staircase.

"Hum, well then…," Adrianna looks very pissed, her eyes alter into a new shade of black, "I suppose you should know that she is out, she will be returning shortly…"

"Okay…"

We stand in silence. I scratch the bridge of my nose and try not to feel intimated. With a dry throat I swallow and look to Adrianna as she takes out a mirror from her purse and gazes into the glass.

"Has she been busy? Miley, has… has she been very busy these last few months?" I ask because I have to hear it, I have to know that maybe I'm not crazy that possibly Miley has been swamped with work.

Adrianna snaps her mirror shut and glares annoyingly to me, "Well, why don't you just ask her," She points to the glass doors as they open to revile a petite beauty with short brown hair.

"Miley?"

She turns to me and I almost fall over. Who is that? This Miley has cut her hair, no more is it long and unruly, but rather shoulder length and very, _very_ straight. I watch this Miley walk to me, heavy make-up scrubbed across her pale beautiful face and I let my eyes wander over her rather reviling dress.

"What… what happened to you?"

This Miley watches me with a sad smile, "Lilly, wow, what a surprise!" She wraps her boney arms around me. I catch a whiff of this new Miley, her scent has even changed. I try to control the lump growing in my throat. Maybe this wasn't the best idea.

"I don't understand," Miley smiles weakly as we pull apart, "Why are you here?"

I frown, slightly peeved, "I was worried… you haven't talked to me in _weeks_." I watch her eyes as they drift to the floor.

"I know, I'm horrible… but," Miley notices Adrianna staring intently at us and stops, "Let's finish this in my room, kay?"

Before I can reply Miley takes my hand and leads me to the elevator. Her room number is 409 on floor number 5. She whips out her room key from her purse. I watch her shoulders hunch forward and back tense with frustration as she jabs the key in aggressively.

"Here, let me try." I say placing my hand over hers; her mouth frowns creating worry lines around her forehead.

Her hand is cold but it's touching so I stroke her knuckles to calm her. She sighs and backs away as I unlock the door with ease. We walk inside and I take it in the vibe of the room. Her things are scattered around the white brick colored room. Old posters, ballet shoes in the corner and a wooden desk facing the window with a laptop and three textbooks piled on top of each other. The room smells like peaches, perfume or lotion I cannot detect but it's not the way my Miley smells. I'm becoming more and more depressed the longer I stand here, my brown converse shoes sinking into the red orange rug spread out between the two twin beds- one for Miley and another for her suit mate.

Miley sits on the edge of her bed and places her head in her hands, "Lilly," She whispers huskily, "I'm so sorry… I neglected you, ignored you."

I don't move because I don't feel that I belong here. I shouldn't be standing on this rug, in this room. I don't move because I'm becoming more depressed and maybe even a little angry.

"I don't want to hear excuses, or how _sorry _you are." I snap squaring up my body, stiffening my stance and giving my face a stone like expression.

"What I did was inexcusable, I know this. But I was-"

"Busy? Uh, yeah, me too!" I bark and I don't give a fuck how nasty I'm being right now. I feel my anger growing and exploding inside my chest, "God, Miley, I _love_ you! I _needed_ you! But you were too damn busy I guess to care."

Miley's head snaps up, "Of course I care! Don't put words in my mouth!" She gets up and takes three long stride over to me and latches onto my shoulders, gripping them both tightly in her hands, "Lilly, please, don't hate me. I'm going to be better, I promise. I love you, so much."

Her eyes, her pretty navy eyes plead with me, promise me and I give in and nod. I seal the deal with kiss- it is a strange kiss, lips pressed against part of her chin and part of her bottom lip, but I take what I can get.

XxXxXxXxX

I get a room in a hotel across the street from the school, paying with my credit card my parents told me to only use in emergences. I turn the facet knob and watch as the tub begins to fill with steamy water. Miley offered to keep me a secret and hide me in her dorm room, but I just couldn't stand being with her, so I left. Maybe tomorrow in the new light things will seem different, clear. I slide into the tub and let out a low hiss, the water burns me, stings- but it feels good, needed.

I float in the water, naked and tired. My body feels like extra unneeded weight sagging over the layers that I've grown into. I tie my hair up in a bun and begin soaping myself up, trying to scrub this city, this pain away. Lathering up my legs I begin to shave, slowly easing the razor up and down in straight lines. The tub water is cold now and I feel like throwing myself back and lying under the water, just for a while.

XxXxXxX

Miley gave me a schedule for her day so I know what time I can visit so we can talk about us. She has two more full days of classes so I'm stuck bumming around the city hanging around stranded corners and peering into used bookshops. The weather is unbearably hot. As I trudge down the sidewalk sweat trickles down the sides of my face and down my back. I feel disgusting and possibly a little smelly. I wipe the wetness from my forehead and keep moving, my feet dragging on with me.

I'm meeting Miley in the auditorium where her class is being held today. It ends around two and it's just now a little after 1:40 so I'm early, but that's okay. I plan to wait in the hallway so we can have a chat about our relationship and how we can go about fixing it properly.

The air-conditioning feels heavenly and it brightens my once sour mood. I walk down the hall, arms swinging back and fourth, pony tail bobbing behind me. It looks like the class has ended because I see little Claire approaching me with a wave.

"Lilly!" She beams jogging over greeting me with a hug, "Miley said you were here! Aw, it's so good to know you two are going to fix things, she's been miserable these last few months, all moody and grouchy," Claire giggles and pulls away while brushing her strawberry blond bangs out from her eyes.

I nod, heart hurting that she's left what I've felt too. But then Clair's face changes, I notice it and frown at her, "What's wrong?" I ask, lowering my voice.

"It's just… could you look after Miley a little during the break?" Clair says rubbing her elbow nervously.

"Why?"

She nibbles her bottom lip, "It's hard to explain, but, she's just been acting really weird in class, I mean. She's constantly working, even after class has ended… I think she might be over doing it." Claire plays with her bag's strap, "I know she's worried about falling behind after leaving for a year… or maybe even being a little out of shape with the routines and everything, but-"

"What?!" My voice is strained, urgent.

Claire shakes her head, "Maybe it's just me… I gotta go; it's great seeing you, Lilly!" And off she bounces. I watch her with a new lump in my throat. The doors open and a new group of ballerinas come striding out, chattering and laughing. I search the crowd for Miley but with no success.

I wait… I wait… nothing. I go to the double doors and peek through the window. I see Adrianna and Miley standing on top of the stage, it looks like their discussing something private and important by the way Miley is shaking her head with a grime expression.

I slowly ease the door open and slip inside, unnoticed.

"… It'll be fine, you'll see!" Adrianna calmly replies, rubbing Miley's arm. Miley backs away and shrugs angrily.

"No! No it won't! You saw me today and the day before, _God_, I'm distracted, I'm loosing my touch." Miley complains.

I stand close to the door in the dark as I watch them interact in the dim lighting of the stage.

Adrianna sighs, "Fine, I'll talk to Greg, he'll fix the tired part, but you have _got_ to suck it up and get back in it. You were the best, Miley, the _best_… and now," She cackles, "You're tagging along in that pathetic relationship with that complete nimrod."

"Don't bring her into this!" Miley seethes, crossing her arms and throwing Adrianna a nasty scowl.

"Oh, right, you _love _her, how could I forget it!" Adrianna sneers placing both her hands on her hips, "You never let me forget it!"

"Stop it! Just stop it, Adrianna, I'm with Lilly, I want Lilly!"

Adrianna stomps her foot in rage and it echoes loudly, "No you don't!! You fool, you ignorant fool! She doesn't know a damn thing about you!" She barks aggressively pointing a finger at Miley, "All that _Lilly_ knows is the vulnerable side, the _weak_ Miley, and that's what she likes. Your Lilly likes you that way, a pure white virgin, so _shy_, so _sweet_. But me?" Adrianna walks closer to Miley, a smile slithering around her face, "I like the devil in you."

I watch Miley wipe her face as tears line her eyes, "Don't, Adrianna, I'm sorry… I just don't want you, like that."

Adrianna growls and grabs Miley's face and presses their lips together, I suck in a sharp breath and-

**XxXxXxX**

**Author's Note: **I have resurrected! I' am back from the dead! I come to you with all my apologies and I can only hope you accept. I have been trapped in a foggy haze of depression, but who knew such a state could be cured with three scopes of peppermint ice cream and a few _The Virgins_ songs. Anyway, do leave your thoughts.


	44. Shot In The Dark

I watch in horror

**Author's Note: **Three kisses, two arguments, and a slap to the face later, I come to you no longer with a girlfriend but instead a red imprint of a hand on my cheek. But oddly enough, I'm glad.

**XxXxXxXxX**

I watch in horror. Jealousy, is running hot- electrifying every piece of me, my fists clench as I watch Adrianna hold onto Miley with an aggressive clutch. I feel my jaw tighten, lips curl into a hateful sneer.

"NO!"

My eyes snap to Miley. She screams, and roughly pushes Adrianna back, so hard in fact the black haired temptress falls back and skids across the slick wood stage. Miley's shoulders hunch forward, she is breathing heavily.

"I said _no_," Miley hisses, "And I meant it three months ago, and I mean it now. I do _not_ want you, Adrianna."

"Fine," Adrianna cries, a husky edge to her voice, "Fine, go back to her, see if I care!"

I feel my body relax as I watch Miley carefully walk off the stage. Not wanting a scene, I quickly dart from the shadows and sprint back to the hallway. I seat myself in one of the stray chairs next to the door, and attempt to control my breathing.

Miley emerges from the door with a face flushed with anger, but when our eyes lock her eyes change into that misty navy I love so much and it all fades away.

"You waited?" She seems surprised, but happy.

I get up and link our arms together and say, "Of course."

Miley gives me a strange look, her head tilting to the side and the edges of her mouth lifting.

"What?"

"Nothing," She sighs tiredly, "Let's just go to my room.

XxXxXxX

Just like old times, I'm lying on Miley's bed as she fumbles through her drawers for something comfortable to wear. I take pleasure in watching her movements around the small dorm- the curve of her jaw connecting to her neck, the shape of her hips.

I play with the loose threads of her pillowcase and settle deeper into the bed, "Come here." I say, a smile tugging at my lips, I can't help but be happy at the moment.

"No, no," She tells me shaking her head, "I reek, I need a quick shower, be back in a few." She grabs a bag and clothes and slips out from the room.

I stare at my toes. I wonder if I should paint them, maybe purple. No, pink! As I mull this notion over in my mind I hear a knock to the door.

"It's open!" I call, not bothering to sit up. The door slowly creaks open and Adrianna's face appears before me.

"You're not Miley." She observes with a weak frown.

I sit up, sharply, suddenly finding my anger that was once left at the auditorium doors. "No, I'm not," I say curtly with a sneer on my lips, "And she wants nothing to do with you. So leave." I report quickly and quietly, no need for me to feel threatened- Miley wants _me_.

A sudden, unexpected expression passes over Adrianna's face. She smiles, it makes me shiver. "Oh," She begins happily, "Well then, you wouldn't mind giving Miley these now would you?" She digs into her pocket and pulls out an orange bottle and shakes it in front of me. The sound of rattling pills fills the dorm room, I freeze.

"Wh-What is that?" I whisper, suddenly out of breath.

"A gift from Miley's pal Greg… oh, but I'm _sure_ Miley has told you all about him, hasn't she?" Adrianna's face beams with victory, "But wait," She places a finger to her chin in mock concern, "Miley's been far too busy to talk with you this past month, so I guess she'll just have to fill you in when she gets back!"

"What _are _those?!" I scream standing and facing Adrianna, who laughs and tosses the bottle to me.

There isn't a professional labeling on the bottle. It doesn't look like something a doctor would proscribe. The only labeling is tape wrapped around the bottle and in a messy scribble, "_M.S. – _**_Amphetamine"_****, is written. **

**I stare back at Adrianna as she grins smugly, like she's won some kind of prize. "You see," She says, "Judging from your facial expression, that's the difference between you and me. I will never judge Miley about what she has to do to get to the top, to get to her dream. You, however, will probably never forgive her for this," She makes her way to the door, hand to the doorknob she turns to me, looking over her shoulder, "I'll be seeing you, Lillian." **

**The door shuts my heart- drops. **

**XxXxXxX**

**Author's Note: ****Very short, I know, not much of a "come back," I know but I will allow you to punish me later, okay? (Pssst…. Congratulations leyton fans.) Leave your thoughts. **

**For those of you who were torn to shreds from today's unforgettable events, my heart goes out and my sympathy remains. **


	45. The Tree That Saved

Author's Note: For those who asked, Amphetamine is a drug that boosts up your energy and can last for, I believe, eight hours

**Author's Note: **For those who asked, _Amphetamine_ is a drug that boosts up your energy and can last for, I believe, eight hours. It is most widely used for dancing and once addicted or overdosed it results in feeling irritable and violent. It usually comes in the form of powder but more often now it is being put into pill form. If you want more in-depth answers I would suggest the internet, this is just my basic knowledge of the drug. Thanks for the reviews everyone, I honestly suspected that most of you had given up on me.

**XxXxXxXxX**

Sweat drenches my palms as I watch the door knob turn. Miley walks in with an easy smile wearing a loose tank top and sweats. She pulls her towel down from her hair and shakes, letting loose water droplets. We meet eyes.

"What's wrong?"

I try to start but my throat burns and I cannot unclench my hand from the bottle. Maybe if I hold it hard enough it will dissolve in my palm, or possibly Adrianna was lying…

"Lilly, what is going-" She sees my hands, "Let me see that, Lilly, let me see it." She walks over to me and holds out her hand.

I open my mouth, "No, not until you explain yourself."

She looks taken back but then stares humorously at me as if I said a joke, "Well, if I knew what that was maybe you could get some answers."

Her comment stings strangely to me, I feel like I'm talking to Adrianna; Miley's movements are no longer hers. The hair I had grown to love- that long curly mess of brown is now copped short and set in straight lines. Everything about her has altered. And now, her morals have vanished.

I hold the bottle out, "Explain." I demand harshly.

Miley runs a finger through her wet hair and walks to the door, then turns back to me, "Who gave you those."

"Adrianna and I had a little chat while you were in the shower… Miley who is Greg and what the _fuck_ are these doing being sent to you?!"

Nothing, she just stands there, astonished and silent.

"Talk! Talk to me!" I scream, "I needed you… and all this time, you were doing drugs and ignoring me! But I'm standing right _here_," I point to my shoes, "And you cannot ignore me now." With flushed cheeks and an angry scowl I wait.

"The pills help me stay energized." She whispers, not missing a beat.

I can't hold in anymore breath so I exhale all air within me and keep it there, out. I don't want to inhale this air, this cramped dorm room air. My lungs burn and my eyes sting. "How… ummm how long have you been u-using them?" I ask her staring down at the orange bottle.

Miley is quiet for a moment. It scares me because then the thought of 'maybe she can't really remember… maybe she's been using them for so long' drifts into my head.

"A month after I arrived here." She says playing with the hem of her tank top.

"Who gave them to you?"

Pause. "Adrianna told me about it… but I sought them out."

"That son of a _bitch_," I growl, "I hate her… God, I hate her."

Miley shakes her head, "Please, Lilly it's not her fault…. Things just got so complicated with Adrianna and me and I was so tired and… and you…"

The mention of me jammed together with the rest of her problems creates a hole in my heart, "What do you mean, what did I do?"

She notices her mistake and cringes, "Nothing, nothing at all, you're fine."

"Obviously there's something wrong Miley!" I bite back throwing the pills down to ground, it makes a horrific crack on the hardwood then the bottle proceeds by rolling and rattling the white pills. The bottle stops at Miley's foot.

"I'm not perfect, Lilly." She says with a husky voice.

"I'm not either, Miley, but you're… you're taking drugs and… this isn't healthy. Just stop, stop taking them!"

She looks angry now, "I won't! I'm not going to do that Lilly, because you have no idea what it is like here, the things I have to do day in and day out! And don't you dare judge me! You smoked! So don't you dare…," Her voice cracks and she can't finish.

"You are missing the point!" I cry while flinging out one of my arms, "I quit, Miley, I quit for you and for me. But this, this isn't you."

Miley sneers and it is ugly, "Yeah, like you know me."

My stomach feels sick, "I thought I did… where are you? Where is that girl I met in Mr. Gunter's AP English class?"

Miley shakes her head back and fourth quickly, "We're not in high school, Lilly."

"So what! That doesn't mean I didn't love you in high school. You need to stop, Miley, there is no going around it."

She places both her hands over her face; the air conditioner hums from the ceiling and outside I can hear the thudding of ballerina feet as they pass by. And then, mumbling, I hear her. "She was right…" Miley sighs in her hands.

Breathlessly, I respond, "Who?"

Miley unveils her face, dropping her arms to her sides and stares at me with a stone like expression and then repeats, "Adrianna was right."

I take a step back, my mouth opens then closes, she has finally put me at a loss.

"She was so right about you, Lilly. You liked me that way! So _sweet_, so _shy_… you liked it when I was beneath you when you were the stronger one!" Miley cries.

"Maybe I did!" I shout, then-

Miley does something I never expected. She slaps me. She slaps me so hard I bite my tongue. A stunned silence drapes over both of us. Miley's hands retreat quickly back to her mouth in astonishment. I slowly place a cool hand to my burning cheek. We do not speak, Miley looks horrified. I taste the tiniest hint of blood in my mouth.

But I will _not_ cry.

"You hit me…" I say softly, almost as if I don't believe it.

"I-" Miley looks disgusted with herself as she backs further away from me.

My eyes widen as I look at her, she _hit_ me.

"Lilly…" She sounds so small, "I'm so s-so-sorry." She hiccups over the syllables with tears forming around the edges of her eyes.

I shrug my shoulders and drop my hand from my face, "So this is you then, bitchy drug addict? So everything we shared… all the things I-" I stop and place a hand to my aching chest, "All the things I told you, I opened up to you, damn it! I've never done that… not after Nate… Jesus, how _could _you?"

Miley's face frowns as she stomps her foot, "Stop blaming me, stop putting all of this on me!"

"It should be put on you, _fuck_… Miley, you did this!" I cry out in frustration. My cheek feels like its on fire as I rub the back of my neck with my sweaty palm. And in my mouth I still have the metal like taste blood leaves behind. I wipe my mouth and stand up tall. "Alright, then it's me or the drugs… I can't be with you if this is what you are."

She never speaks. Miley's gaze lingers over the fallen bottle.

I have my answer.

Head dizzy, mouth dry, I walk to the door and open it, just as I'm about to leave I turn back to her, "You know, Miley, this whole time everyone kept telling me to be good to you, warning me not to hurt you…," With a weak smile, and heavy heart I tell her in a voice thick with emotion, "But who knew... who knew it would be you who would break my heart…. No one every warned me about that." I turn and walk away. As I make my way down the hall I keep hoping, maybe she'll come to her senses; maybe she'll come after me. I wait by the elevator-

She never comes.

What now?

XxXxXxXxX

I' am numb. I feel _nothing_. Sitting in my car with the silence as I drive down the highway feels good, like I'm accomplishing something. I grip the steering wheel with a new strength and press my foot harder against the accelerator. I have power here. The sound of my engine roaring builds me up. Lose pennies and dimes rattle in my cup holder. I glance out my rearview mirror one last time.

I pass a sign that reads- _You are now leaving the Los Angles Area!_

XxXxXxXxX

I stop the car in a parking lot and pop open the door. I'm standing outside a _K-mart _somewhere in Arkansas. I get out and walk, my legs are really beginning to cramp up. I stroll around looking into the stores along the strip mall. I spot a bench outside one of the dumpy building and sit. I take out my phone and quickly dial.

_Hey you've reached the triple 'O' so leave your name number and I'll get back to you soon! _I wait impatiently for the beep to come and then- "Oliver, hey, it's me. Listen, I should be home in a few hours… umm… I've got some not so great news. I hope you're good and Sarah's good… just good. We should get together, chat some…. I miss you, bye."

I hang up and move on.

XxXxXxXxX

I realize its December 23rd about the time I pull up into the driveway. It's around three in the morning. I shut off the car lights and kill the engine. I drag my bags slowly into the house. The door is always open, I walk in and that eerie darkness takes me once again. But as I turn the corner I see lights coming from the living room. Dropping my bags I walk over.

A beautiful tree rests in the corner of the living room, its evergreen aroma filters through my nose. Colorful lights sparkle, illuminating the dead white walls of our house. My mouth hangs ajar and my chest feels so much fuller with a bittersweet edge. As my eyes drift I find the figure of my father resting in his favorite chair, sipping wine. With the glimmering lights I see tears cornering his eyes.

"Dad?"

He quickly wipes his eyes and stands, placing the wine glass on the coffee table. "Lillian," He coughs, clearing his throat, "You're home."

I smile weakly, "And so are you… and the tree?"

He looks shy as he gestures to it and nods, "Um uh, yes, I bought it yesterday… for- for you. So you'd have it to come home too…"

"But we've never gotten a tree since…" I pause, not wanting to say it.

My dad rubs his neck and its then that I realize where I got all my nervous mannerisms from. "I think, Nate, would have wanted a tree." He says under his breath in a quick manner.

"Me too," I say, my voice growing more strained, "Thank- you, dad, you don't what this m-means to me."

And then, I feel it. The pain of loosing her grips me fiercely. My numb body fades leaving in its place a distasteful pain. I put my hands over my tired teary eyes and sigh in my own misery.

"Lilly?"

"Dad I- oh, _God_, everything is falling apart!" I feel my knees tremble, my body quivers- slowly collapsing into itself. But he catches me; my dad wraps his arms around me and presses my face to his brown sweater. "I don't understand," I whine into his chest, my nose running, eyes shedding tears.

"I don't think," He says into my hair, "I don't think anyone does."

**XxXxXxXxX**

**Author's Note: **Don't hate me. And before you hate Miley please consider everything- that was not her talking that was the drugs and Adrianna's silly nonsense filling Miley's head. But anyway, its great to get reviews from you guys again, I have surly missed our conversations. So, as usual, leave your thoughts.


	46. The Wild Hope Of Maybe

Morning

**Author's Note:** _WELCOME_ new readers/reviewers! I saw quite a few of you. And to everyone else- thank you for stopping in and leaving your thoughts and feelings, you make me a blushing fool.

**XxXxXxXxX**

Morning. My eyes pop open exactly at five. My legs are stiff, stuck in their curled position on my bed, tangled in the sheets. Not moving I take in the moment of darkness and the turning fan over my head. It's hard to breathe, I can't make my lungs full, but I keep trying, keep drawing up air from my room.

I kick my legs up and out from the covers and away from myself in order to feel them again.

XxXxXxX

Downstairs in the kitchen I watch my mother make breakfast, which is an event in itself. She hardly, if ever, cooks. But yet, here on this frosty December morning she is awake and bustling about the kitchen. My dad has yet to emerge from his office but with the small hints of Christmas cheer and the smell of a fine breakfast on its way I have reason to be, at least slightly, happy- despite all that has occurred in the past twenty- four hours.

"Help me?" My mother asks holding out a bowl filled with brown mush that is supposed to be pancakes, "Mix them together and I'll start up the eggs." She tells me while wiping off her hands with a Santa cloth.

We work together, not talking. My mother hums an unrecognizable tune and I mix occasionally we'll trade jobs.

This is nice, comforting.

XxXxXxX

"There, now doesn't that look nice?" My mother asks admiring our work of the neatly set table and various foods to choose from.

"Perfect." My dad says from behind us as he folds the newspaper and takes off his reading glasses, placing them in his front shirt pocket. "You two are quite the team."

We sit together, a family, my family. I have a sense of pride soar up from my chest into my throat as I watch my parents interact with out quarrel. I drink my orange juice slowly to let this moment last.

"How are your classes going, Lilly?" My mother questions from her side of the table while cutting up a piece of sausage.

"Uhhumm…," I nervously fidget with the white table cloth, "Not well…. I think… I want to quit school."

Silverware clashes with white plates. My mother's face becomes brained of color. "You what?" She hisses, "No, no you will _not_ be quitting school!"

"But I hate it! I'm suffocating there! I just want to write, I just want to get away and write and be alone!" I haul out all the words with a great force, my chest heaving as I finish, my vision becomes blurred as the familiar sting of tears blots out the clarity.

My dad gives me a knowing look. I told him everything last night in the light of the Christmas tree, it poured from my lips like a flood. He never spoke- what was there to say- but rather held me as I cried and nodded his head slowly.

"I think it might be good…" He says softly to my mother, "For Lilly to get away."

"But that's just it!" My mother says throwing down her napkin, "She'll drop out then never go back. Can't you see, honey, I want you to succeed."

"But what about my happiness?" I question looking down at my clasped hands. My parents exchange unhappy glances.

XxXxXxXxX

Comfort comes in different forms. I lie in bed with a large bag full of jellybeans and stare expressionless at the television as my comfort movie, _Harriet the Spy_, plays over for the fourth time today. The shades pulled down and the door closed I sit in darkness. I've decided to quit school with or without my parent's permission. I will be the kind of daughter my parents are embarrassed to talk about at their dinner parties. People will ask them whatever happened to their rebellious lesbian daughter and my parents with cringe and remark that they have no idea, maybe I moved to Canada. But in reality, here I will stay, glued to my bed and then one day many years from now I will die here in bed and people will wonder how I died and the answer will be humorously simple- "She choked on a purple jellybean."

"You're thinking about the jellybean death, aren't you?"

"Oliver!" I sit up making the bag of colorful beans to spill.

"Was it orange or green this time?" He asks standing in the doorway smiling.

"Neither, it was purple." I remark sourly to him as he closes to the door and leaps onto my bed then popping a bean into his mouth.

"Ooh, man, if Harriet is on this _must_ be bad news," Oliver says looking up to me then his gaze returns to the screen, "So what happened?"

"Shh!" I warn him sternly, "This is my favorite part." I watch the screen with great interest, even though I've seen it a million times. In the scene Harriet is doused with blue paint by her classmates and in embarrassment she runs home and dives into a tube full of water to clean herself, but in doing so turns the water a dark navy.

"Lilly…" Oliver takes to a more gentle tone of voice, "Was it Miley?"

I fall back into my pillows, "I really don't want to talk about it…"

"Fine."

We watch the movie. A moment passes.

"I broke up with her."

Oliver's face frowns, "Seriously?"

"As a heart attack."

Oliver scotches closer to me on the bed, "But I don't get it, last time we spoke everything was cool."

"She's so messed up, Oliver."

"Tell me."

And so I do.

XxXxXxXxX

Oliver mulls over the news by slowly chewing a yellow jellybean. His brow wrinkles in deep thought and his brown eyes darken. "I'm sorry, Lilly, for both of you… Miley is just confused. I'd say you both need time."

"Time?"

"Time to adjust, to grow, maybe?" Oliver offers with a hopeful stare, "But, I wish this didn't have to happen. Neither of you deserves to feel broken."

I snort, "I'm hardly broken."

"Stop lying." Oliver argues angrily, "You're shattered, Lilly, stop trying to act tough."

I turn away to look out the window, "I don't want to fight."

"Then be truthful."

The television is blue and the light shines brightly over my room. I swallow a lump in my throat and say, "I miss her."

"And that's perfectly normal."

"But I ache, I yearn… I feel _so _much in places I never knew could hurt." I confess picking at the plastic bag.

"You loved her."

"Loved?"

Oliver sighs, realizing his mishap, "Love, sorry, you love her and love hurts, you of all people should know that."

I pound the mattress with my hands, "But why is it so easy for you and Sarah?"

"It's not easy, it's hard. But we're just not as… well, you and Miley are two very passionate, very messy people and, I suppose, when you two get together it's like… like fireworks. Like BANG, like BOOM!" Oliver explains wildly flapping his arms, "You two are not like me and Sarah we are a current, okay? Like ripples in a pond. But you and Miley, together, now that's an ocean wave- crashing and moving…" Oliver pauses and rubs his chin, "You remember that Henry Wadsworth Longfellow's poem? That's what I'm talking about- the tied."

My heart skips a beat. I kissed Miley for the first time after she read that poem to me. As I nod Oliver proceeds to explain his point and my mind phases back to that afternoon.

"Anyway," Oliver starts up again, "We're different people with different relationships. And I've always been a firm believer that if two people were meant to be, but somehow separated, they would find a way back to each other, somehow, some way."

"Golly, now, Oliver, you're such a romantic."

"Keeps my lady happy."

XxXxXxXxX

My parents are out, where I do not know. So with an empty house Oliver and I move our pity party into the living room in order to sit close to the tree and bask in its beauty.

"Hey, I've got it!" Oliver exclaims sitting up from his once lying position on the floor, "You're mom wants you to have a plan if you're not going back to school, right?"

"Sure."

"Well," He says smiling, "You can go live with my Aunt Alessandra in New York! That way you'll be close to the theater scene, she lives in the outskirts of the city. It's perfect!"

He looks so happy, I hate to burst his bubble but- "Um, yeah, good idea in theory but first my parents would never let me and second your aunt hates me."

"What?" His face falls, "No, no she was just mean to you back then because we were dating. Aunty Alessandra hates all the girls I date."

"But still, isn't she the bitter hag with all the cats?"

Oliver crosses his arms and frowns, "She has one cat… and she's only bitter because my uncle died that year she came to visit. She's sad, Lilly."

I roll my eyes, "Fantastic, I'll go live with her, two sad broken hearted women with a cat living in NY."

Oliver shakes his head in frustration, "You can be so fucking cynical sometimes, just think about it. I will not let you waste away living in this house not doing anything. At least with leaving with my Aunt you'll get away and be able to write."

I pick at one of my nails, "What if I'm not cut out for playwriting."

"Nonsense, you are a writer Lilly, so stop this and do something about it."

I meet his eyes and smile weakly, "Is this supposed to be a pep talk? Because it's not very peppy there, coach."

"Shut-up."

**XxXxXxXxX**

**Author's Note: **So… how am I doing? Leave your thoughts.

**Unknown lazy ass- **I can honestly say that I nearly choked on my water when I saw your review. I can also say that I fell out of my chair from the shock of its length. Bless you. You wrote beautiful character analyses of both Lilly and Miley. And it is of no problem that you couldn't comment before now, really its fine- I'm very lazy myself. I'm happy to have you as a reader and I do hope I never disappoint. Again, thank-you. I apologize if this note seems rather lacking in meaningful content to you, but it's hard for me to express my gratitude.


	47. In The Comfort Of Daydreams

Author's Note: Hey guys, a quick note, please don't be offended by the Jonas Brother remark or Disney comment- it's just a jok

**Author's Note: **Hey guys, a quick note, please don't be offended by the Jonas Brother remark or Disney comment- it's just a joke between my sister and I. I don't mean to harm. Also, if confused by the joke, take in consideration this is in the future. Music wise, the band _Uh Huh Her_ song _Wait Another Day_ (Acoustic version) was of great inspiration- a great tune, you should give it a try.

**XxXxXxXxX**

I'm sitting shotgun next to Sarah in her car, Oliver's stuck with the backseat as we drive down Haynes Street heading to our favorite café listening to Sarah's mixed tape. Hearing the opening notes of a Jonas Brothers song I stick out my tongue and my finger dives for the skip button only to be stopped by Sarah's hand.

"Aw, come on, Lilly!" Sarah whines smiling, "I happen to like_ Burning Up_, it's a fun song."

I shake my head, "I can't believe people were so obsessed with them back in the day."

Oliver chuckles, "Don't deny it Lilly, you like them. You try to hide behind all your Submarine CDs, but I know the truth!" He exclaims triumphantly.

I unhook Sarah's evergreen tree shaped air freshener and throw it at Oliver, he ducks and keeps laughing. I cross my arms and explain my reasoning, "The only reason and I mean it- the only reason I liked them was because of Kevin! When he _finally _came out of the closet and admitted to having a boyfriend I bought one of their CDs."

Sarah nods, "I know it was so obvious, but it's Disney and you know how they are." We nod to one another.

"But you know who _really _lucked out?" Oliver asks with a smirk, "That Nick guy, seriously he's dating Selena Gomez, she is so h-"

"I swear to God, Oliver, if you finish that sentence…" Sarah glares at him through her rearview mirror.

Oliver's mouth snaps shut. I turn to another track, Disney songs are dangerous.

XxXxXxX

I know Oliver has already spoken to Sarah about me and Miley and I know he's warned her not to bring it up. I'm not stupid, I know what this day is- Oliver does this a lot, takes me out for a day to ease the pain, to forget, if only for a little while. It's annoying but that's Oliver.

The three of us decide to occupy a small table close to a window where we can watch the dark December sky and pray for snow. We order hot chocolate and let the silence envelope us. Sarah seems suddenly nervous, not having anything to distract her, to feel at ease around me. She's never been good at comforting.

"So… I hear you might be going to live with Oliver's Aunt Alessandra that should be exciting!"

I shrug and play with the sugar packages, "My parents are discussing it. They trust Oliver's family but they don't really trust me in a big city."

Sarah smiles warmly, "I'm sure it'll be okay."

Our drinks arrive and I'm glad because now I can drink instead of filling the air with my voice. Oliver drums his fingers on the side of the mug and glances out the window. My gaze follows his to the sky. It is a perfect winter day, minus snow, the wind is harsh and the trees are naked without their fleshy green leaves. The coldness leaves a sting to my bones and a red nip to my nose and cheeks. I feel suddenly dreadfully lonely looking to Oliver and Sarah, the two snuggled warmly together around our cramped table. They radiate joy and love. For the second time since I've been back I feel the absence of Miley vividly and it shakes up the foundation I have been trying to build, this notion pierces me and I let out a sigh.

The cold chill represents my heart today, the bareness of the trees show my pride- stripped clean. I' am naked and I' am cold.

"Lilly?"

"Humm?"

Oliver's eyes find mine and he smiles weakly, "You haven't touched your drink… do you want to talk?"

"'Bout what?"

"Anything!" Sarah beams chiming in.

I pull the collar of my coat up and closer to my neck, "Nothing to say. She's gone and there's nothing I can do."

No one speaks.

XxXxXxXxX

At home I find a place to curl up on the couch and there I lay, motionless. I shut my tired eyes and breathe through my nose. Hearing someone sit, my eyes pop open and there I find my mother staring back at me.

"You're father is calling the head administrator." She says dryly.

"Great…?"

My mother rolls her eyes, an action I have been told I mirror well, and frowns, "You are no longer a student at David Lipscomb College, Lilly… For some odd reason your _father_ has decided to let you run off to New York and be a writer." She looks peevishly at me for a moment, waiting for a responds, then realizing I'm too shocked to speak, she says, "Your father is also sending a few men down to the college to collect the rest of your things… after tomorrow it will be like you never attended that school…," She seems so sad, disappointed, "Your plan ticket is paid for and everything, I did that." She looks at me with, confusion spreading over her features.

"Thank-you." I say, feeling silly afterwards, there should be more to say, but I can't think at the moment. My mother nods, but not really looking at me anymore or anything, she nods to the ground then stands and walks away.

Out of his office my father walks sluggishly passed me, we share a look- one that cannot be described fully, but I know he realizes just how grateful I' am because a shadow of a smile tugs at the wrinkled corners of his mouth and his head nods forward at me. And then, off he goes to comfort and explain more in-depth to my mother why I need this, why I need to be uprooted from home and school and everyone else.

As I lean back into one of the couch pillows my thoughts drift to Miley, I wonder what she is doing, how she is doing. I wish I could touch her, heal her invisible wounds with a gentle kiss and tight embrace. I find myself more often now going back to that fateful afternoon, and pondering on how I could have handled things differently. In my daydreams I rush back to her and with a patient heart and soft tone I reason her into coming away with me. And together we (magically now, this is a daydream after all) travel the world and buy a cottage in the French countryside and spend our days in bed tangled together, forever.

But I'm supposed to be angry with her. I'm supposed to feel like what I did, walking away, was the right thing to do; only now I'm not so sure. Was I too harsh? I should have told her that I love her, I should have grabbed onto her and not let go till she agreed to stop taking drugs. Balling my fists up I feel tension rise inside me, my chest lights on fire and my gut squirms- I need to quit dwelling, soon I will be gone, my future path is unfolding and I need to stop lingering in past decisions, what is done is done. But the fire keeps burning.

XxXxXxXxX

Oliver says his aunt is excited about seeing me again, but I know he's lying. If I remember correctly Aunt Alessandra never gets excited, her face is forever imprinted in my memory as that of someone who just sucked on a lemon- lips puckered and eyes squinted. While in her youth Alessandra was a beautiful woman (long dark curly hair, alluring almond shaped eyes and plump red lips) she now is rather decrepit and wrinkly. Her hair streaked with gray and eyes long lost their spark- but, at least, that is how I remember her. There is a great possibility that she has changed, that or maybe I just imagined her as a witch for the way she spoke with me that day many years ago when I was introduced as Oliver's girl.

"Please call, in fact call every night… and be respectful, she's doing you a favor young lady." My mother nervously taps her thumb on the steering wheel as we drive to the airport, "And no funny business, I know how the big cities can seem- so full and vibrant but it's a mean world, Lilly, don't ever forget that, please."

My father turns in his seat and gives me a reassuring smile. The days following Christmas my dad and I spent together. Not necessarily talking… we sat… and read, but together.

We reach the airport too early for my flight. My mother checks her watch for the fifteenth time then sighs and taps her foot. We are sitting side by side, me in the middle.

"I'm going to the ladies room, be back in a minute." My mother says walking off leaving me and my dad staring out the window at the planes taking off into the brilliant blue sky. Stealing a glance at him, I notice my father's face; it looks genuinely pleased, a certain happiness striking at his sad wrinkles and deep set eyes.

"I'm proud of you," He declares the minute my eyes look away from his face, "What you're doing… I'm p-proud of you."

A strange bubbly feeling erupts inside of me, all I've ever wanted from him… all I've ever wanted- the acceptance. And it's here, it's now and I can't stop smiling.

"You are?" I ask, breathless and a little awe stricken.

"Go be a writer, follow your heart, Lilly." He still isn't looking at me, he keeps his eyes to the sky, and that's okay. My father has never done well with these sort kinds of talks, these kinds of feelings.

"Dad?"

"Yes?"

"When you were younger… who did you want to be? I mean, what did you want to do?"

He smiles, again and clasps his hands tighter in his lap, eyes to the endless sky, "I wanted to be Atticus Finch."

I'm silent; I look down at my feet.

"See, I told you I wouldn't be long!" My mother chirps merrily, nestling herself in her seat next to me.

XxXxXxXxX

Standing between my parents we wait for my flight number to be called, it shouldn't be long now. Its two days after the New Year and already important business men and women are on the move. They look so cool, so very chic in their lovely pinstripe suits- they are flickering images of black and white, not stopping for a moment to really _look_ around them. They are only concerned with their phones, laptops and papers- it's all done with a yawn for them because they have already been here and done this.

My flight number is called and my mother starts to tear up, "Oh, why are we doing this again?" She moans dramatically, hugging me.

"Because she needs to grow." My father remarks sternly before taking me into his arms. For the first time, I really hug my father, and he smells like coffee and peppermint. I rub my face in it to always remember the scent of my dad.

"Be good, I love you" They say, waving, I take a last look and then I turn away from them and into the tunnel. Here I go, I'm not scared… I'm not scared…

XxXxXxXxX

High in the sky and I still feel her. Eyes glued to the window I watch the long scattering clouds, so full and beautiful, I picture her hair- the clouds are her hair. The sky is her boundless smile, so perfect like the setting sun. Unclenching my hands I let them lay in my lap, sweaty and motionless. The empty seat next to me, creates an ache in my chest, I want her here, experiencing this with me. I press my fingertips to the glass and let my mind meander back one year today. We were together, blissful and at ease.

"Do you need anything?" The flight attendant smiles prettily at me, bending down to reach my eye level. Her red lipstick is vibrant against her pale skin. I shake my head and watch her go.

Fine then, it is decided here and now- I don't need anything. I will not mourn this any longer…. But _oh_, I want to feel the winter with her, I want to watch her in the snow of New York, walk those streets, see those sights and feel nothing but warmth even in the winter chill- only warmth because when nightfall comes I know she will be there, warm in between my sheets.

XxXxXxXxX

Taxis are a bitch. I sit in the back slinging from side to side as my driver speeds down the street honking his horn and swearing up a storm. I feel rather sick as he turns sharply around a corner. Oliver's aunt is one lazy ass, this was one of her many rules- she wouldn't be picking me up at the airport, if I wanted to get to her house, I would have to haul a cap. Thankfully my parents were gracious not only in letting me run free on this little adventure but they also enclosed a rather large sum of money in an envelope. I fold the address and slide it in my pocket as my cab comes to a very abrupt halt.

"Here we are," The cab driver barks in a raspy voice, a cigarette dangling from his mouth. I pay and he speeds off, black smoke choking me.

I turn, after watching the yellow cab fade away, and let my eyes linger over the tall slanted gray colored brick building. With two bags slung over each shoulder and a suitcase in hand I stand on the sidewalk that leads up to the blue door. She has a garden out front, or it appears there once was a garden, the winter months have taken her flowers and their beauty. My breath makes large puffs of air as I walk, struggling with my luggage, up the three steep steps. The house should be easy to find, I consider after ringing the doorbell, it rests on the corner next to a large red stop sign.

I wait, tapping my foot and bouncing slightly up and down, it's _so _cold; I'm surprised it hasn't started to snow yet. I ring the bell again, disregarding what my mother said about being polite. Slowly, I hear someone approaching and unlocking the door. It opens and I see her, Oliver's bitter aunt.

"Oh… you're here." She frowns and opens the door wider for me to come in. I drop my bags in exhaustion, the flight, the traffic, the everything, I'm dead. Her house is cluttered; cramped, long seemingly endless walls of wall to wall bookcases take up all that I see so far.

"You will be taking residence in the attic," She reports matter of fact; "It's the only un-used room in the house."

I follow after her, dragging my things. Aunt Alessandra is prettier then I remember if I'm correct on my math she's about fifty-eight. Her long brown, mostly gray, hair is swept up into a fancy black clip. She is wearing a yellow silk bathrobe and black slippers that scuffle across the hardwood and hiss under the large red rugs.

Her small frame leads me through the house pointing out the kitchen, a small creamy white colored room with dark wooded cabinets with numerous windows.

"Dinner," She says as we trudge up the narrow staircase, "Is promptly at seven, if you are late you do not eat, are we clear?" She looks over her shoulder at me, I nod quickly.

There are three floors to the house, I learn- The bottom is the kitchen, reading and living room. The second floor consists of her single bedroom and bathrooms, along with a secret room that she did not show me.

And finally, the third floor- the attic which will become my home for my entire stay. She gestures to the large space and looks to me. A nice round window sets in the front wall, illuminating the whole area. A small twin bed with fresh sheets is set up in the corner and a large desk, perfect for writing, is next to the window.

"It's perfect, thank-you." I smile at her.

She seems unmoved and bored, Aunt Alessandra simply tilts her head at me, "I'm doing my nephew a favor, I would do anything for him, and your father made it clear over the phone that you would be no trouble…," She pauses, looking to the window and not at me before continuing, "Do not expect me to be very welcoming, my dear; I have long lost my patients for people in general, years of the theater life are the cause of this."

She makes a dramatic exit by sweeping up her long bathrobe and turning slowly to the door, throwing her head back as she retreats down the stairs.

Theater life? I smile to myself and begin to unpack, that Oliver, I knew there was a point to him sending me here, silly boy.

**XxXxXxX**

**Author's Note: **Sorry for the delay, during the week I'm always swamped, but when the weekend rolls around I get to do one of my favorite things, and that is to please my readers. Leave your thoughts.


	48. Write Her Down

**Author's Note: **Miss me? I have a love hate relationship with computers. I love them because they act as my access to the answers of my quirky questions. I hate them because they often break down at the worst possible time. Funny really, computer help numbers, you can spend hours and hours talking to those professionals to realize that they have no idea what's wrong. So I apologize for the prolonged delay, my computer died and my warranty expired- these past months my computer has been a real bitch. Because I've been away I thought it necessary to have a-

**RE-CAP: **I doubt that most of you will go back and re-read all those 47 chapters (I did, but I'm the writer so that's different) so I'm going to give a quick and painless overview on the important events that have taken place- Miley and Lilly have broken up because Miley refused to stop abusing drugs (drugs that Adriana suggested to Miley for her to be more alert during ballet class). Lilly has dropped out of college and decided to become a full time writer, and Oliver's aunt, who lives in Midtown Manhattan (which is significant), has taken Lilly into her home to write. Also! Readers learned that Adriana is in love with Miley and once tried to persuade Miley into a relationship with her. Okay, now I'm done.

**XxXxXxXXxX**

Shadows of car headlights flash silver across the attic walls and ceiling. Covers thrown off and my sleeping shirt hanging off my shoulder, I sigh. I cannot sleep; my very first night here and I cannot sleep, cannot close my eyes and drift into a distant slumber. It's around midnight. Outside the window I can see snow beginning to fall, I marvel at the difference between this world of wintry Midtown Manhattan and the heat stricken streets of Los Angles.

Sitting up with a jolt I stare at the black screen of my laptop. My finger ache, but not for the keyboard of a computer, quickly scuffing my feet across the wood flooring I dig through my bag. I pull out my notebook and perfect black pen and seat myself at the large desk next to the grand oval window that over looks the city scene.

Time to write, that's why I'm here isn't it? I dive right it, running my pen across the paper writing nonsense at first- to relax my hand and open my mind, I write-

_She is a fool, I know, she is a fool for the numbness it brings… I' am her, once not now, tin solider… she breathes me in and exhales right when I need--- need her most--- need her like…like--- I' am desert ground, she is rain and I thirst- throat burns and begs. _

I stop writing and frown; I crumpled the sheet quickly and throw it to the ground. I have all this… this feeling in my chest and I can't get it out. I want to claw it out, dig my nails in deep and yank out this hurt that lies buried inside. I pick my pen back up and try another method.

_Miley: I miss you._

_Me: Really? _

_Miley: Not a day goes by that I don't think of you…_

_Me: Then be with me, love me._

_Miley: I do, so much_

_Me: But? _

_Miley: But Adrianna understands me, better then you._

Dropping my pen, I place both my hands over my oily tired face and let out a muffled cry. Even in my imagination she leaves me! Feeling something hot run over me I take my notebook and fling it across the room angrily. I _hate _her! I fucking-fucking-_fucking_ hate her! I despise Miley with all my being right now, my chest no longer trapped in heartache, but rather a wild animal of rage.

My skin flushed with a hot spell I revert to the window and release the latch, opening it and letting the frosty night air drink me, suck out the heat. I want the cold; I want the numbness of the snowflakes and the icy wind. I exhale sharply and bow my head in defeat.

XxXxXxXxX

Aunt Alessandra stirs her coffee as she reads the paper. I lean up against one of her kitchen counters and watch her with my arms crossed.

"Sleep any?" She inquires not looking up from her page.

I let my gaze drift to my bare feet, "No."

She seems bored as she rolls her eyes, "Write any?"

"Nothing worth mentioning," I reply dryly.

Aunt Alessandra laughs as she brings her red mug to her pale lips, "Well of course not, darling, you spend all your time locked up in the attic."

I narrow my eyes, "Well what do you suggest?"

"Get the hell out! For God's sake, dear, you're living in the mouth of the theater scene! Go, get lost for the day… inspiration comes from exploration." She stands, and stretches in her yellow silk bathrobe and walks away.

I'm good at getting lost.

XxXxXxXxX

Like walking into a new world, I let New York take me. I can breathe here, my body swaying in and out of the crowds. Winter in the city is breathtaking; I like the bitter smack the wind leaves on each of my cheeks. I like the way people collide with me, connecting to me, even if for this one moment in time. Going nowhere, I hold myself together as I trudge across sidewalks. Lights flash around me; yellow taxis make their voice heard. People, people everywhere and I want to tell their story. I want to etch their beings into my notebook with words- I want them, with words. I have to write, I feel it burning brightly, that feeling, a cross between throwing up and laughing- it bubbles up from my chest and I need to sit down, need to get all this out.

XxXxXxXxX

A corner dinner proves satisfactory. I seat myself in a red booth and order a coffee. I yank out my pen and notebook and begin to write. I'm writing about myself. I'm writing about my life and my experiences.

Death of beloved brother- Nate

Parent's resentment- Mommy, Daddy

Friend's love- Oliver

First sexual love- Lauren

Miley- … I find my story inside her, my true story lies behind her eyes. I'm not scared anymore, not afraid of what my pen will write about her. I need to see it on paper, need to know that yes she meant everything and then everything was pulled out from under me. But I yearn for her.

As I write, my hand aches, my finger curled stiff in that writing position, as I write I find myself recalling simple memories.

A rainy summer afternoon- we made love- our bodies colliding with a gentle arch. I can see it; feel her on me, hot breath on my shoulder. I can remember the way she looked when she went, climaxed- that look still haunts me, moves me to tears. Oh, my pen remembers…

I sip my coffee and look over the pages I have written, scribbled down messily in black. What a release, like sex almost, the art of writing, oh what a release.

XxXxXxXxX

Dinner with Aunt Alessandra is an event. She plays 40's jazz music and sips white wine in a red cocktail dress, not once looking over to me. I sit on the far left of her poking at my quiche dinner with a questionable brow.

"So," Alessandra begins suddenly as if just realizing I exist, "How's the writing, Lillian, you take my advice?"

I take a swig of water and nod enthusiastically, "I did, thank-you."

She runs a finger over the brim of her wineglass, "Tomorrow I'm going to the independent theater downtown… would you care to join me? Get a feel for the theater? I'm sure inspiration would come from a real stage… and besides I have business to attend to."

I give Aunt Alessandra the biggest smile I've made in a month, "I would love that!"

I help Alessandra clean up after dinner; she does not own a dishwasher so I roll up my sleeves and clean the plates while she dries, we both bob our heads to the jazz music.

"I've decided I like you, Lillian." She announces after putting away the last glass, and walking over to the record player, turning it off.

"I like you too," I say nervously wiping my wet hands on a dishrag.

"Good," Alessandra smiles resting her hands on her hips, "And now I'm going to do all I can to help you write that play."

I tilt my head to the side and give her a goofy grin, "I think I understand why your Oliver's favorite aunt."

XxXxXxXxX

I'm in the attic, pacing. I can't find my cell phone. I was supposed to call Oliver and my parents tonight. I thought I plugged it in last night… but now, really thinking, I can't remember the last time I saw it. Shit, shit, shit. I flip over my pillows, unzip all my bags, and scoot the bed over even and nothing!

If I were a phone where would I be? … The last place to check of course! I walk over to my winter coat and dig through the pockets. Aha! Success! I pull out the phone and slide it open.

_1 Message _flashes over the screen I hit play and hold it to my ear expecting to hear Oliver or my mom screaming at me for forgetting to call. Instead, I hear loud music and hundreds of distant muffled voices.

What the hell-

"Lilly!"

My chest inhales sharply (ribcage closing in… closing in) and my heart ceases to beat…

"Liiiillly!"

She's drunk.

Miley's drunken slurs fill my ear completely. I take a seat on the edge of the bed because I cannot stand; my knees are shaking, my hands trembling.

"Lilly, oh God," She mumbles on the other line, "Why… it's New Years!" She pauses, "I'm at a p-party." She giggles softly and I cringe. Long silence on her part just stupid rap music and voices, "I was ummm th-thinking 'bout you all the time, ever since you walked away."

I shut my eyes, squeezing them tightly because I can't breathe and I will not shed any more years for her… I should hang up, I should hit delete- but her voice- it's been so long and I crave even the most disgruntle and drunken side of her- I crave.

"I think, maybe, I was wrong to not say goodbye." She continues, voice wavering in and out, "I think I mis-miss you… your lips…my name on- on your lips…"

I hear something else then, another person scream, "Miley!"

Son of a bitch!

Miley giggles, "Adrianna!"

"Miley hang that up right now!" Adrianna says and from the sound quality I know they are fighting over the phone, Miley laughs, she seems so far away, "Bye, Lilly, bye!"

Silence, the line goes dead.

I feel like throwing up. I grip my phone firmly in my sweaty palm. Chest rising and falling dramatically I stand, my weak legs wobbling. And then anger, just a flash of white hot anger. I'm done, so very done. Symbolism comes the moment I take my phone and throw it hard, to the corner. Adrianna wins; she can have Miley for all I care. Done.

**XxXxXxXxX**

**Author's Note:** Gosh, I feel like I've almost lost Lilly's voice in this story. So tell me if I feel a little off. Anyway, I'll get it back- give it a chapter or two. I miss you, my readers, so as always- leave your thoughts. (It feels good to be back.)


	49. Holding Out For A Good Day

**Author's Note:** I apologize for the long delay- sorrow gripped me fiercely and I was unable to bring myself to write… But, a lighter note- I have the very best readers. Hands down, no doubt about it _**I'm forever indebted to each of you who have blessed me with your words of kindness**_. Thank-you appears to be lacking, in describing my emotions, but in any case, Thank-you, a thousand times (again and again) Thank-you, you humble me.

**XxXxXxXxX**

I want something soft and sweet to pucker my attention, to unleash these flood gates and open up all my emotions. I want gentle sex to calm my nerves and ease my tattered mind. Lying in bed, sheets wrapped and tangled around me I try to remember being locked away in my secret place. I try to recall the feel of my white tub. The bathroom that I worshipped, I almost forgot. It's early, the sun is rising now and I feel reborn in its light. But then, I also feel disconnected with all things. I'm no longer colliding with my home life, and home friends. Oliver is far and I feel my heart is there with him as my heart is with my parents and her and Nate. My heart is scattered today. My heart beats and beats and bleeds and bleeds with all people. With all that I love, my heart survives with them. And I feel good, that notion sits right with me here on this winter morning in late February.

XxXxXxXxX

Top reason to love this city- no one knows me. They have no idea where I come from, or what I've experienced. A blank canvas, that's all I' am, or, I' am no one- just a filler of space, a meaningless asset to the white wall. Yes, yes, I walk the city sidewalk with a healthy stride. My head up and body swaying. I won't let past actions and people bring me down, crumble my spirit. I'm here to write! A writer! And that is all.

Aunt Alessandra walks beside me, dressed in her unusual fashion, today she's wearing a dark purple trench coat, black heels, and dark red lipstick. If I could paint, I would love to paint her just like this- walking briskly down the sidewalk as if she owned the entire world, her confidence roars loudly in the fast paced city scene. I've grown to rather love her, grown to consider her as my aunt. Ever since our kitchen confession she's been more then friendly, she's been motherly- making sure I eat, making sure I stay above all these emotions. Which is why we're going to the theater today, so she can show me around, introduce me to _her_ people, _her _crowd- Actors, writers, musicians, artists. The liberals! My people too, people who spend all day lounging around, throwing ideas here and there, smoking a joint after breakfast, my people, who don't really give a damn. Yes, yes, so many top reasons to love this city.

XxXxXxXxX

Alessandra holds the door open for me with an excited smile. I walk in and it entrances me, immediately. Something about the theater, just enthralls, just exhilarates me to no end. The lobby is warm and dim, red walls, dark tiles and counter space. I close my eyes; I could write here, I could just sink into one of those dark brown wing backed chairs and write forever. My eyes snap to attention as Alessandra's heels click against the tile floors. I clutch my bag closer that holds my notebook and follow her silently up the high spiral staircase, one step at a time.

"Lilly," She turns to me with a smile, "I'm going to speak with my good friend Parker Walters, the owner of this theater, you may retreat to one of the boxes and watch the rehearsal they should have already started."

I watch her leave, walking slowly down the long hallway, and once her figure is consumed by the dark corners of this haunting and magical building I turn my attention to the secluded box. Dark red velvet seats greet me as I walk down the three steps and into the box which hangs out from the walls and dips down towards the stage where the actors assemble.

Ooh, I've got chills. I sink into one of the plush seats and whip out my notebook and pen in a blind dash. Inspiration clouds above and within me. But my curiosity comes first, what play are they rehearsing? I squint my eyes and lean forward.

The director, I'm guessing, the tall mustached man points his finger to an older woman and directs her to stage right.

"God damn it, Sherry, do you think Williams would have wanted his character Amanda to sound like a fucking Yankee? No!" The director throws his script down and puts his hands on his hips, "Act southern, get it right or get the hell out!"

"I'm sorry!" The woman named Sherry shouts back.

I laugh; its Tennessee Williams's play "The Glass Menagerie," a classic.

I settle in my seat and watch as the director criticizes Sherry on her sad performance of the character Amanda (an over bearing mother).

The director sighs loudly, exhausted, "You know what Sherry, take five…" Sherry mumbles something under her breath and walks off stage, "Alright! I need characters Laura Wingfield and Jim O'Connor on stage immediately!"

I watch excitedly as the two actors come bounding up the stage, scripts in hand. "Let's rehearse the scene from yesterday," The director commands and the two actors face each other and then my mouth drops- completely.

Lauren.

XxXxXxXxX

I used to practice lines with her everyday before rehearsals, before tryouts of the lead role in every school play. We would lounge like fat cats on her bed, naked after a good fuck, holding the white stapled sheets of paper- reading over the black typed words- she always read with great passion. Lauren would always throw her whole self into a production, she would _become_ that character.

And now Lauren, just like all the times before, is no more as the meek character of Laura Wingfield takes the stage, and I along with the rest of the room am captivated by her. I hold my breath until the director claps and declares that rehearsals are over for the day. I watch Lauren pick up her bag, smile and wave to her fellow actors and walk off the stage, her red hair swaying back and forth all the while.

Damn it.

"Lillian, there you are! How's about we go meet the cast?" Alessandra smiles down at me, placing a gentle hand to my shoulder.

"Duh… urrr…" I mutter, almost choking at the thought of being in the same room as Lauren- yet _again_!

"Come on now Lillian, no need to keep them waiting." Alessandra pulls me up and together we walk down the hall; descend down the staircase and through the large theater doors, all the while my palms sweating.

"Harold! Harold!" Aunt Alessandra calls as we walk down the aisle towards the tall mustached director.

I walk behind her bowing my head trying to make my hair cover my face. I don't want Lauren to see me; out of the corner of my eye I see her sitting reading her script. Harold, the director and Aunt Alessandra kiss each other on both cheeks.

"It's such a joy seeing you again!" Harold gushes, resting his hands on Alessandra's elbows, "You look fantastic, so pink and lovely."

"Oh Harold, you sad man, stop it," Alessandra blushes, pushing Harold away.

"Actors, my wonderful actors," Harold announces turning to the large group of people on the stage and leaning up against the walls, "This is Alessandra Lombardi; she raises all funds for the theater!"

A round of applause breaks out for Aunt Alessandra and she shakes her head, smiling, turning from the attention. I sweat bullets as my eyes find Lauren's and she smiles, waving at me.

I could die.

"Shush, please!" Alessandra giggles lightly, "But thank-you… this is Lillian Truscott," She pulls me to her and pats my shoulder, "She's an aspiring playwright."

Harold nods, staring intently at me, nodding, "That's wonderful, Lilly, I'm curious, are you working on anything special now?"

"You could say that…" I mumble, looking at my feet feeling like a child.

XxXxXxX

It's getting dark out and I'm avoiding Lauren, because that's what I'm good at, avoiding people and problems and everything.

Alessandra is speaking privately with Harold in his office and I'm standing in the bathroom on the second floor staring at myself in the mirror. With my notebook out and open to a random page on the gray countertop I scan it quickly, picking out several spelling errors. I have been working on something, but I'm far to embarrassed to blurt it out to Harold or anyone else in that theater. I'm working on a memoir… which could be a complete waste of time considering I'm not eighty or dying so a memoir could be a rather silly concept for many to grasp.

"Knock, knock…"

Shit balls.

"I thought I saw you in the theater."

I watch Lauren through the mirror, as she closes the bathroom door softly.

"I've been searching this place high and low for you… I didn't know you knew Mrs. Lombardi."

"She's Oliver's aunt." I say turning around, I look over Lauren with an up-close eye, she looks… strange.

No make-up

No slutty outfit

No sexy '_I wanna jump your bones_' smile

So strange

"I'm happy to see you again, Lilly." Lauren admits walking closer and jumping up to sit on top of the counter, "My therapist says we have unfinished business."

"Therapist? You have a therapist?" I smirk, growing comfortable and leaning against the counter, staring at her.

"Yep!" She laughs, throwing her head back, "It's so ridiculous but my mother's new husband wants the family to be close so he prescribed me to one of his buddies who just happens to be a psychologist and as it turns out… I'm crazy!"

We share a laugh. This is nice, not scary, just nice.

"But the doctor isn't that bad, we got to talking about you." Lauren tells me tilting her head and leaning just a smidge closer.

"And…" I ask, smiling.

"And," Lauren smiles back, "He said that I didn't treat you all that well… that I used you, and I did, I know that, but I've wanted to speak with you about it for the past month and now I can, it's like a miracle or something, right when I need you, there you are."

I play with the sleeve of my shirt, "It's really alright Lauren, to be honest I'm over it, I'm over everything that happen between us. I'm not mad. I'm not anything, really."

Lauren makes a fake gasp, "The _writer_, the writer is numb, numb from all feeling!" She cries dramatically.

I swat her shoulder weakly and grab my notebook and shove it into my bag, "I'm just so messed up."

Lauren snickers, "You're talking to a girl who spent the last four months visiting a therapist about her fucked up childhood and relationships, come on doesn't that make you feel just the tiniest bit better about yourself? And besides, don't you have that hot ballerina girlfriend?"

Lauren watches me, waiting for a reply but I just stare ahead at the bathroom stall, "No way!" Lauren gasps, "You guys aren't together?"

"It's a long story…"

"So talk."

And then words are bubbling up from my mouth, as if they had been there, resting there all along waiting for the right moment- long rivers of the past years come cascading downward- and it feels so odd and perfectly reassuring to be sharing them with Lauren- the girl who left, who returned, and now she is just there, just the girl in the bathroom listening to me talk and talk and talk about someone else that I'm so deeply and permanently in love with- and that's when it _really _hits me.

Oh God- I'm only going to be in love with Miley, she's "it" for me, love will not find me again…she is all I want… and I cannot have it- it's just Miley for now and for always, just her… that notion sits with a comfortable passion inside me- to have and to lose but when I think of her, I think of rainy afternoons, I think of her bare skin rubbing into mine on a bed in a city that swallowed me whole…

Lauren was never a good listener when we were together, but now, years separating us, she is perfect, eyes staring into mine, mouth formed in a sad line. She nods and places a warm hand to mine and rubs it soothingly.

"I'm sorry, Lilly," She says after a moment of silence, "She looked good for you and from the way Adrianna talked about her, she seemed pretty amazing."

_Adrianna,_ my body grows cold, I turn away from Lauren, "Adrianna is a bitch who treated Miley like shit, and I'd like it if you wouldn't talk about her."

Lauren shrugs, "Fine, but think about it from her view for a second, Adrianna knew Miley first, was in love with her first but stayed away because Miley was a boy magnet and then a year passes and Miley brings you home?" Lauren slides off the counter, "I'm sorry about what happened between you and Miley you were both wrong, but don't cut Adrianna off yet… I got to know her when I was in LA for my mother's wedding, Adrianna's just lost, I can relate. The world's not black and white, Lilly," Lauren walks over to the door, she smiles over her shoulder at me, "We should get together again Lilly girl, I miss you…"

And with that Lauren walks out the bathroom door, I listen to it close tightly, echoing, bouncing off the white tiles.

I want to go home… home and sleep… sleep and then write- it keeps me stable.

XxXxXxXxX

"_Wake up, Lilly! You have to wake up!"_

_I turn over in bed and moan, "No, go away, I want to sleep!" I pull my pillow over my head and frown. _

_He slaps my side playfully and yanks on my leg, "Damn it, Lilly!" He chuckles. _

_I sit up roughly and glare at him angrily, "Nate, I'm tired, so go away!"_

_He smiles that lop sided grin and shakes his head while brushing his shaggy blond hair from his face, "Nope, not going to happen, Lilly girl. I'm feeling good today and I want us to go to the park, it'll be fun, mom will make a picnic and dad will come… and not bring any work with him." He smiles at that last thought. _

"_Dad not working? Please!" I cackle falling back on my bed with a loud thump. Nate jumps in next to me and we rest side by side on my bed. It's Saturday morning. _

"_Lilly," He whispers, "Please, for me?" _

"AH!" I jerk up out of bed startled. My face drenched in sweat and all the covers kicked off of me and on the attic floor. I feel a little sick. It all seemed so real, so casual and normal…. So strange… I haven't dreamt of him in three years.

Quickly, practically falling out of the bed, I grab my notebook and pen and begin to jot down the dream and another idea for my play. Writing has been my main activity other then taking long walks and drinking coffee at a corner café where I watch people, like a beaten creature I hide in my booth by the window of the café, sipping my hot coffee- watching… watching the people walk and talk and laugh- and then there I' am with my pen recording, viewing the world that I no longer hold a part in…

XxXxXxXxX

I'm hanging around the theater today while Alessandra is taking the day for herself. She feels she has earned herself a day of shopping downtown and since I couldn't bear lounging around her house all day in my pajamas whining about writer's block, I thought it best to visit my second home in the area. Over the past few weeks Harold and I have gotten together and chatted up a storm about the upcoming production of _The Glass Menagerie_.

He lets me sit in his office sometimes and review old photographs, gritty black and white pictures of men and women who first preformed in the small theater, and even a few pictures of Aunt Alessandra in her youth- back when she took the stage full force, with her acting talent.

Now, I'm lounging in Harold's chair behind his desk, my notebook in my lap and a washcloth over my forehead, I have a killer headache with no drugs to spare me the misery- oh woe is me!

Lauren stopped by this morning before one of her college morning courses, promising me that we'd meet up later in the evening with the rest of the theater cast for a late dinner. I'm rather excited. I've met dozens of new and fascinating people over the time I've spent acting like the phantom of the theater, lurking behind the red curtains of every rehearsal, sitting in one of the box seats above the stage. I'm always here, always talking to someone new, even sharing my ideas for my play- some people seem rather interested in it, acting wise.

Harold has been hounding me ever since I let him read one of the scenes in which my protagonist confronts her love interest about their sexuality. Harold, when the play is finished he says, wants to pitch it to the big man upstairs, Parker Walters- owner of the theater and whatever he says goes in this place- considering the theater is called _Walters Theater_- very original indeed. So life is grand for the moment, things have found a rhythm, a routine and I worship that security…

I'm walking down the main lobby, tying my scarf around my neck before I plunge into the February weather, Lauren called and we're meeting the acting gang at a small diner down the street and I'm famished.

XxXxXxXxX

Inside the diner I spot the crowd of the young and middle aged theater group as they chat merrily, Lauren waves me over and I smile. It's rather peculiar how much we've connect over these last few weeks; we have fallen into a sync that's lightly akin to friendship. She has assured me that she no longer holds a romantic interest in me and that she simply wants us to be close emotionally. I like that.

I plop down next to Jeremy, a spirited dark haired boy who simply adores the word _fuck_; so much in fact that he uses it in every fucking sentence.

"So I was like, no way fucker, you ain't takin' my money, and he was all over me like a fucking animal! And I beat his fucking lights out!"

"Oh do shut up Jeremy," Lauren interjects, "You did not get mugged yesterday! I talked to your boyfriend and you two were visiting your mother!"

Laughs break out and Jeremy sits back in his seat and plays with his order of French fries. The conversation lulls into a discussion of Harold's new hairstyle and I zone out for a moment, not caring for the topic…

"… But I'm so excited I mean he just surprised me with the tickets!"

I slowly refocus myself back into the conversation as Ashley blabs about her new boyfriend, "Where is he taking you?" Lauren asks before taking a sip of her water.

"The Ballet!" Ashley gushes excitedly, "We're going next week for the production of Don Quixote! God, Trevor is so cultured and romantic! I'm so letting him get into my pants… although," Ashley giggles, "I'm pretty sure the only reason he wants to go is because of that new break out star ballerina, I can never remember her name…" Ashley stares off into space for a moment, drumming her fingers on the table, "Something with an M I think.... last name Stewart, that I know for sure."

Lauren's gaze finds me and I shrug, smiling weakly, "Her name's Miley," I answer for Ashely as she snaps her fingers.

"Yeah!" She says laughing slightly, "Miley that's her name, I knew it was something a little off, a little weird."

"Yeah…" I say soflty looking at my clasped hands.

"Maybe we should change the subject!" Lauren suggests, "Why don't we order already, Jesus Mary and Joseph I'm starving!"

Everyone agrees, Jeremy waves over a waitress and we order cheeseburgers and more fries all around.

Sometimes I wish it weren't ture, but Miley is famous, she's all over the ballet scene and every now and then like tonight, someone will bring her up, someone will comment on how well she performed in the last show. But this week she's in New York and I feel her presences more then ever but I haven't gone to any of the productions and I never will.

**XxXxXxXxX**

**Author's Note: **Next chapter I promise, Lilly and Miley will reunite… Leave your thoughts.


	50. Consider It Peachy

**Author's Note: **I feel like the last five chapters have been very gloomy and angst ridden so I really wanted (_at least the beginning_) of this chapters to revert back to the earlier chapters style of humor, partly because I went back and re-read a few of the beginning chapters and I miss that side of Lilly.

_**Unknown lazy ass-**_ I just love you, I'm sure that's creepy and odd, but I thought my love should be known publicly- I'm not ashamed. You write such lovely reviews to me that are always humorous and insightful and it never ceases to amaze me or brighten my mood. You think my writing is addictive? Well, I find your reviews additive. I just can't wrap my head around it, how did I get so lucky to have someone take the time the way you do and write such lengthy analysis of my characters and story? I don't know, nor will I ever. You spoil me to death.

To everyone else I adore you as well; I just wanted to give _**Unknown lazy ass**_ a special shout out from their last review many months ago. So please know that I appreciate you and all your words of advice, wisdom, and thanks.

**XxXxXxXxX**

_3 Months Later… _

I'm speeding down one of my favorite streets back home in Tennessee with _Hot Blooded_ by Foreigner blasting over the radio and yeah, I feel pretty bad ass. Spring is here and I'm home for an overdue visit. I've just spent the entire day with Oliver for his first official day of spring break from college. He and Sarah are back home and just bubbling over with stories to tell about roommates and horrific bathroom sharing experiences. I never truly realized how much I missed my Oliver until I pulled up into his driveway and saw him sitting out on his front stoop waiting for me with that lop sided grin and shaggy untamed hair.

We embraced fully, squeezing the life out of each other and then we hit the movies, bowling alley and the video arcade- just like old times, we tore up the town just he and I together again! I'm still smiling from the visit, even if I'm tired as hell.

I feel my phone vibrate as I squeak to a halt at the red light. I quickly dig the electronic device out of my pocket and slide it open.

"Hello!" I yell over the music.

"Lilly turn that down!"

Obeying my mother's scowling I decrease the volume and sigh loud enough for her to hear my discomfort, "What'dya need?"

"I need you to stop at the grocery store for me, sweetie."

Using the word sweetie in a sentence never lessens the unwillingness to comply. I roll my eyes and continue driving as the light changes. I make a mental note I'll soon forgot about the products my mother needs for dinner tonight then hang up.

XxXxXxXxX

Its hotter then hell as I park my faithful car, Ernie, close to the front of a Publix grocery store. I lock Ernie's doors, although the locks on that car are so fickle and rarely work. Wallet and keys jammed into my brown cargo pant's pocket I jog briskly across the parking lot and into the cool refreshing air conditioned building- _ahhhh_…

I grab a shopping cart, and of course it's the shittest cart of the bunch, a loose wheel that wobbles and squeaks- perfect.

As I'm examining the cereal section the store I feel my phone vibrate once again.

"Yo, speak to me!"

"Oh my God, Lilly!"

"Oliver?"

"Oh my God!"

"What are you doing?" I ask, pushing the shopping cart to the side to let an elderly couple through the tight aisle, I juggle the cell phone with my cheek and shoulder.

"I'm reading your play," Oliver tells me.

"Damn it! I told you to wait until I got back so I could explain the parts with X's and marking all over it!" I gripe angrily, "Ooh frosted flakes!" I cheer grabbing the box and throwing it into the cart, my mother shouldn't mind if I pick up a few of my favorites…

"I'm sorry Lilly, but you left it out in the open at my place and you know I have no self control!"

"You sound like such a whiny little boy right now!" I giggle teasingly as I turn the shopping cart into the bread aisle.

"No mocking!" Oliver responds.

"So… how far are you in it?" I inquire casually, while grabbing a loaf of wheat bread for my mom and white for me.

"I'm at the part where you're leading lady, Camellia, funny how that is a flower and your name is a flower," Oliver says with fake intrigue and I can picture him rolling his eyes, "But anyway I'm towards the end where she leaves Margaret and considers suicide."

I laugh heartedly, "Yeah, that's a fun part… so what do you think?"

Oliver pauses, "Well, I just think it's _really_ personal and ummm some of the conversations in here are exact ones that you and I have had over the years."

I stop in the middle of the produce section, near the bananas, "Is that okay? You're not going to sue me or anything, right? I mean writing is a very personal thing and I just took from my experiences…"

Oliver sucks in a breath, "I'm sorry, no I'm not mad or anything just surprised. This play is very honest about things you and I went through, you cover _everything_. This play is intense and funny and heartbreaking and I love it, Lilly, I love it. I feel like I know this whole other side of you that I never knew existed."

My heart soars and crushes all at the same time and I wish I was next to Oliver so he could feel my love for him, so he could see the emotions running across my face, but instead I just stare down at the damn bananas and poke at their yellowish skin.

"You're such a fucking rock star, Oliver," I laugh, wiping the corners of my eyes. He laughs.

"And you wrote a fucking awesome play, Lilly."

We share a soft silence, a deep set connection and then someone over the loud speaker of the store interrupts- "Clean up on aisle four, repeat clean up on aisle four that means _you_ Frank!"

"I should go, but stop by my place later, Sarah's coming over for dinner and I want all of us to hang out, okay?" Oliver says and it's more of a demand then question.

"Yes sir!" I respond in all fake seriousness.

"Bye, Lilly."

"See ya later, handsome."

We hang up, and I shove my phone back in my pocket.

Let's see now, I've got bread and cereal and I still need milk, rice, and… peaches! I want some peaches. Pushing my sad excuse for a cart over to the selection of peaches I begin my search by pressing into each individual peach for a good firm one.

"Lilly?"

I turn my head slowly, while trying to tie up my plastic bag of finely selected peaches, "Mr. Stewart!" I gasp slightly.

"Hey there, I thought that was you," He says smiling and I notice how little has changed about him- still the man with the sunburned face that's wrinkled with age around his mouth and eyes. I always liked Mr. Stewart, but standing awkwardly holding a bag of peaches I feel self-conscious and afraid because who knows what Miley has told him by now.

"So how's everything?" He asks like we're old war buddies or something.

"Things are o-okay." I stutter, embarrassed.

"That's good," Mr. S says slowly with a light nod of his head, "That's good."

"Daddy! Oh there you are, I got the cake mix you wanted but I wasn't sure if you-"

…Why does God hate me so much? I would really love to know. Maybe I'll have a heart attack right here on the spot and find out. Then I'll ask God before he sends me straight to hell why he detests me so very much. I bet he'd say it had something to do with all my swearing I do have a sailor's mouth- because all I can think about right now is fuck- just fuck over and over again (_fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck_).

I think it's strange that even now, months having separated us, probably making us completely different people, she still gets to me, digs deep into my skin and ruffles it up. I also find it strange how incredibly attracted I' am to her right now.

Miley looks delicious- which is probably not the best term to use considering these past months all I've been repeating to myself is how much I hate her and how much I'm over her- wrong, so wrong.

Miley looks delicious, there I don't care, it's not like anyone will have to know that I'm thinking this right now… no one will know… that sits perfectly fine with me.

Oh God, her hair's grown back… so lushly curled and long… God I could just brush my fingers through it, just rub my face in it and inhale deeply, that wouldn't be odd, right?

"Hey, Lilly."

She speaks first and I'm glad she does because I can't function, let alone form intelligent sentences.

"Hi-Hiya." God I'm fucking idiot- be mad! Be mad at her!

That is impossible right now.

"I'll go check out, Miley," Mr. Stewart says taking their cart and walking off, I'm sad to see him leave, I don't want to be alone with her. I feel like my body is sizzling, burning frantically and I can't do anything to stop it, like a fire is brewing underneath my skin, and what I wouldn't give to tear it off, shed my skin and flee.

"So you're off for spring break? Done touring?" I ask wanting to hurry along the small talk so later once I've run away I won't feel like I didn't at least try.

Miley nods, making an 'uhhum' noise through closed lips, "Yes, my last performance was last month, and my classes ended two days ago so I've been here ever since."

I nod as well and we stand bodies facing each other but our eyes to the ground.

"What about you?" She asks out of politeness I'm sure.

"Different stuff," I mumbled, twisting the plastic bag around my pinkie finger and waiting until it starts to turn bright red before I release the pressure.

"Oh," Miley responds, almost hurt by my stiff nature.

I rub the back of my neck aggressively, "I really should get going, I'm shopping for my mom so she'll want me back soon…"

"Oh, of course," Miley says shaking her head and moving aside, a light blush covering her pale cheeks.

I start to walk away, my heart pounding in my head. I turn and look at her a moment, she's staring at her feet.

"Miley?" I call; she whips her head to me, "Would you want to get together… uhh… maybe talk later?"

"Yes, yes I would like that."

"Cool."

"What about this evening? We could meet at that _Joe's Coffee Shop_, say eight?"

I nod, mouth closed and walk away, not bothering to look for the rest of the items on my mental list, I pay for what I have already and run away- because that's what I'm best at.

**XxXxXxX**

**Author's Note: **So very short, but I just got a little excited and wanted to post more often, considering I disappeared for so long. Leave your thoughts…


	51. Water Will Clean It

**Author's Note: **I believe I need to establish a quick insight to Lilly's character before I proceed. Lilly acts rather unintelligent at times, she is also an occasional hypocrite and liar, Lilly lets her emotions control every aspect of her life which in some cases isn't a good thing, she also is very self absorbed, Lilly is in every way an emotional train wreck - I have created a flawed character (loosely based off Holden from the novel The Catcher in the Rye- I really wanted to create a female version of that literary character that I love dearly) I make Lilly this way because perfection is a lie, it's also very boring to write and probably read.

_**Atlantic-wolf-**_ Hey, thanks for your lovely comment, I loved when you described Lilly as a "medieval poet who oozes darkness and negativity"- I thought that was clever… also, I thank my readers/reviewers because they inspire me (as you did) they keep me writing and improving- the readers are who I write for.

_**The Rising Tide- **_Angst you foresee? Well, you are most certainly correct! I love angst and drama, I really, _really_ do, I'm horrible that way- nothing can stay happy for long, it's just not my style. (Also, you crack me up- commenting before you even read the chapters?! That's hilarious, and I'm touched at your kindness).

_**Kurrent- **_Hey you, (for the record I'm doing _much_ better, but I suppose a new girl in my life has something to do with that). You are dead on for calling both Miley and Lilly stubborn- because they indeed are! Each too scared, too haunted by past mistakes to fully unveil and love. I'm glad you commented- hopefully, after this story I'll get around to commenting on yours, I feel so bad about not taking the time to do that- I mean here you are offering up all these beautiful words of encouragement and yet I give nothing in return.

_**Squire Conrad-**_ Sometimes I get a little too caught up in my two main characters that I forget about everyone else. But it's funny, because in one of my first rough outlines for this story I had this huge story twist with Sarah and Oliver, but at the last minute I cut it from the story because I felt it would become too distracting and because it was a rather tragic storyline and I felt Lilly had enough to deal with. Although, I think out of Oliver and Sarah- Sarah is the least complex. However, I'm going to work on them, promise. What I really loved about your comment was the section where you talked about inner desires and not being able to control who you love- that just really _got_ to me, does that make sense?

_**Unknown lazy ass-**_ Don't worry, I haven't completely disregarded past scars of the girls I just thought for their first initial meeting in five months shock would be the major issue and not so much screaming and yelling I will, however, briefly discuss the past wrong doings in the chapter. And you are right, my stories often come to no real climax- that's just my personal way of writing, I prefer numerous smaller climaxes as apposed to one major climactic scene. Also, in concerns to Lauren, therapy can be very effective- don't ask me how I know, just take my word. Also to your comments about the other characters (aside from Lilly, Oliver, and Miley) you are most right because I don't make them important, I put no _real_ substance into them, that's really the cause of my own laziness and because they're not as important as say Lilly. Hopefully in my upcoming stories I can create evenly complex characters. But at this point in my writing abilities I'm simply not talented enough, nor do I have the patients. The reason Miley was really pushed into the last chapter is because she has been absent for (I believe) five chapters already and I feared that if I were to write yet another chapter without the other leading character a reader just might bite my head off. Although I' am planning for Mr. Stewart and Lilly to have a small conversation (if I can get my shit together for the next few chapters). One last thing, promise, I find it highly amusing that you would create "quotes of the week" from my chapters- that's really cool. Often I think I don't deserve a reader as nice as you.

**XxXxXxXxX**

"_You are my sweetest downfall_

_I loved you first, I loved you first_

_Beneath the sheets of paper lies my truth_

_I have to go, I have to go..." _Regina Spektor, Samson

**XxXxXxXxX**

My mother is angry, but I don't care, I'm calm- perfectly and completely at ease. There is a stilled silence about my house. My parents have left me alone (since I managed to buy nothing on my mother's list she and my father are dining out) and I feel like I'm sixteen again, relapsing after a nice scowling from my mother.

But nothing can get me here, inside my white fortress, my tub. On my lap is my old high school journal that I kept for Mr. Gunter's English class and sitting by my feet is the fourth rough draft of my play.

I feel like time has not passed, I'm not older; I have not graduated high school, I have not left home. Inside this tub I'm so small, I'm a child even… inside this tub years run backwards. Past mistakes blur past my eyes as I close them and lean deeper into my tub, memories resurface and I take them in stride. I cannot go back, cannot stop certain things from happening, cannot recoil any words I've spoken, and I cannot take back my actions from years ago, though my God I often wish I could.

Most of my mistakes revolve around Nate- if I had listened more closely, paid attention to his moods, and instead of keeping a distance latched onto him and never let go, maybe things would have turned out differently… I usually keep the memory of Nate at least an arm's length away from me, but sitting inside this tub Nate cannot be ignored- his presences is suffocating- after all it's where he died.

Directly after the incident I spent days wondering what he must have been thinking before he dosed a bottle of pills.

Was it a mad rush, shoving the drugs inside his mouth while trembling, body shuddering as the mental attack on his brain wore on?

Or was it peaceful, a planned decision well reversed in his mind?

I hate both ideas.

Either way it happened, either way he left me alone, to fend for myself in this gilded cage of a home... but I miss everything about him, so my anger never lasts. I could never stay bitter towards him, even when he was alive- we just fit together, brother and sister, best friends. I confided everything in him, and now I rely on the kindness of strangers, just like that woman from Tennessee Williams's play _A Streetcar Named Desire_- I reveal myself, my story to so many people I barely know- as if searching for something, I'm always looking, but for what I could never say, because the logic is beyond me.

Maybe a family-

Maybe a home-

Maybe love-

All common things, all ordinary quests for the human soul to hunger for and yet I seem to separate myself from everyone, as if to pompously say that I' am larger, I' am grander and I wish I wouldn't. I should feel lucky, should feel complete because there is Oliver, always Oliver who never left me even when I pushed him away with two forceful hands. But once again, I' am selfish, I want more.

But what-

But _what_?

And so I yearn for Nate, because he could be that missing piece, only I'll never know, and can never fill it.

I stare out the glazed bathroom window as the sun sets and blinds me for a moment. I feel a strange sensation grip my chest and I know I should get up and out of the tub and get ready to meet Miley for coffee, but my body won't move, it's possible that I enjoy the torture of hurt feelings, of my own private sorrow.

XxXxXxXxX

It's not a big deal, why am I treating this like it's such a big fucking deal? I examine myself in the full length mirror in my mother's bathroom while smoothing out the white blouse and black skirt I'm wearing. This is probably too much, screw it I'm changing. Running, my bare feet pounding the hardwood, to my bedroom I try to think of something else to wear- something casual with a formal flare, is that even possible? I dig through my closet- nothing! I have nothing to wear!

But wait, why do I care? It's Miley; she's seen me naked for Christ's sake, and it doesn't matter because she's above judging me on the basis of my clothing… it doesn't matter, it shouldn't… but it does.

It's just coffee, we're going for a simple cup of coffee to mend our egos and act civil to one another so that we may part on equal, friendly basis- that's all. So I ditch my current outfit and settle for a nice pair of jeans and blue top.

I feel good, fixing my hair and applying a small tint of red lipstick to my lips, I'm feeling very good… until I realize the time (7:50pm) and I dash for Ernie, starting up the engine with a vengeance and then I make a mad run for the coffee shop.

XxXxXxXxX

The dim lights of _Joe's_ shine out into the parking lot reflecting in Ernie's windshield, I get out and walk, hands in my pockets, the early spring air feeling cool against my bare arms. Opening the door with a short jerk, the aroma of freshly brewed coffee filters in my nose; I breathe heavily in and smile- feeling good.

Miley is already seated, stirring her drink, staring at it with a blank expression on her face. I seat myself in a wooden chair across from her and we exchange nervous smiles.

I very rarely spend time in _Joe's Coffee Shop_, it's not really my scene- it's too coated with melodramatic college students who wear black sunglasses and blog about their problems like anyone cares…

I shift around in my seat, it's rather uncomfortable.

Miley plays with a paper napkin.

I'm feeling shitty.

"I know I already asked this, but I would really like to know, what have you been up to?"

I scratch my chin and consider the question, I pause letting her words linger.

"I quit college," Miley's eyes go wide at my answer, "I moved in with Oliver's aunt who lives in New York and spent most my days at an independent theater downtown where I have been working on a play," I finish and wait.

Miley grips her coffee mug with both hands, but doesn't drink, "That's… that's a lot."

A man stops by our table, breaking the silence and asks if I want to order anything, I order a cup of black coffee.

"And you? Is it just the ballet that's been keeping you busy?"

Miley nods, "It takes up most my time, yes, that and school."

I feel my anger boil, that and drugs I'm sure, that and stupid _Adrianna_! I want to scream that at her, I want to pound my fists into the table, but I can't… I just…

"You look rather choleric," Miley whispers.

The waiter arrives before I can answer, setting down my coffee. "Thanks," I say offhandedly, not really looking at him.

"I'm not angry…" I say after a long moment.

"You're easy to read, Lilly, especially when you're turbulent," Miley says tearing a piece of the napkin off and playing with it.

I exhale shakily, "Would you just stop, please? Stop reading me, stop making assumption about me. Let's just talk pleasantly, catch up and then let it all go."

For the first time this evening Miley looks directly at me, "Let it go? How can you say that?"

"Because I need it be like that, Miley, I need to let it go… I thought I did, I really believed that but I got that message? The New Year's message you sent?"

Miley bows her head and her face grows red with embarrassment, "I'm so sorry about that… I hadn't… I wasn't thinking properly."

I snort, "Of course not, you were drunk, maybe even high."

Her head snaps back up to meet my gaze, "I stopped."

"What?"

"I stopped taking the drugs."

I swallow hard, "That's good."

"I'm sorry I hurt you, Lilly, you never deserved that. I was wrong."

"So was I."

Miley shakes her head angrily, putting both her hands on the small round table "No," She seethes in a hasty whisper, "No, I messed us up so bad, you don't know… you can't even begin to understand what I-"

I place both my hands on top of hers and rub her small knuckles; the contact makes me suddenly _very_ warm.

"Miley, _stop_," I say softly, "Please just stop talking…." We lock eyes, "Let's get out of here." I say, my words all rushed.

She doesn't speak, she only nods and stands, I leave money on the table and we depart- but not touching, just walking very close.

"My house, come to my house," Miley says, "No one's there, my dad is out tonight."

"Okay…"

XxXxXxXxX

She is already there by the time I pull up into the driveway. I get out of Ernie and flip the locks. Miley stands in the doorway, the front door open wide and the lights from inside extending out into the dark driveway, out into the black night.

She closes the door behind me and we stand, just watching each other. Miley's home envelopes around me in a tight embrace and all I want is to do the same for Miley- create an embrace.

She shifts her weight from one foot to the other, I can hear her swallow- I watch her throat and something inside me, something like anger and lust fused together, just explodes in my chest.

Don't think- don't think- act on impulse- like before-

I grab her face and crash it into mine, my hands hold her cheeks as I demand entrance to her mouth, she grants without protest and just like that we are kissing- kissing aggressively and without thought. I tug on her hair and she bunches up my shirt with her hands, pulling recklessly at my clothes. I wrap a protective arm around her waist so our hips connect, while my other hand still clutches locks of her hair. I' am mad, truly, I have gone mad.

This isn't good enough I want more, more skin, more exploration. Somewhere between my tongue in her mouth and then her teeth on my bottom lip I manage to articulate, "Couch," and she complies, moving us both to the brown couch in the living room, without speaking.

Outside I can hear an airplane flying by- it's wings ripping through the night sky.

Outside I can hear a car driving by, radio on too loud.

But inside, all I hear is Miley's shallow breathing and soft whines as I start to unbutton her jeans- she is seated on the couch and I rest on my knees in front of her- I want this, I've wanted this for _so_ long. I just need to get it out of me, this lust hanging heavily over my chest; dripping like sweat from my heart- oh I just want to be an animal tonight! No rules! Just flesh! Just that sound that Miley is making just for me, right now!

_Buzz! Buzz! Buzz!_

Everything stops. I had just succeeded in lowering Miley's pants when a soft buzzing noise found its way to my ears. I feel my pocket vibrating. Miley is staring intently at me.

Fuck! Who is calling me?

"You're phone…" Miley says after a moment, her eyes smoky and distracted.

I fall back off my knees in a sitting position on the floor and slide open my phone. "Who is this?" I bark angrily.

"Where the _hell_ are you?"

"Oliver?"

"You were supposed to meet me and Sarah tonight, Lilly!"

I scratch my burning ear and try to collect my thoughts, "I'm sorry, Oliver, something has come up."

I hear him sigh loudly, "What could have come up?"

"Listen, I _really_ can't talk right now, I promise to fill you in later, okay?"

"Fine," Oliver grumbles, "It better be good."

We hang up and I dive back into my position with Miley.

"Wait, I'm sorry, no, Lilly I can't," Miley says softly, buttoning her pants back and sliding to the other side of the couch, away from me, always away from me.

"We really shouldn't be doing this," Miley says quietly, resting her hands on her knees leaning forward.

I get up off the floor and shove my hands in my pockets, like a reflex, like a defense mechanism.

"Okay," I reply simply with a shrug of my shoulders, looking around the room, wondering what it is I should be feeling- seeing as how the deep arousal I felt two seconds before is quickly fleeting.

"I think we should… we should do like you said before _let it go_," Miley says steering the conversation in a completely different direction and all I can think is _why?_ I was dumb earlier this evening, _let it go_? Seriously what the fuck was I thinking? It's _Miley_! I can't just let her slip through my fingers again; I won't let myself do that.

Control your temper, Lilly, control it!

I seat myself next to Miley on the couch and she flinches and tries to move further away, but can't because she's sitting right next to the armrest.

"Miley," I say softly, touching her arm, she cringes, "Miley about before, what I said, it was a _really_ bad idea…"

"Please don't touch me," She moans, voice strained with emotion.

I let go of her arm gently and scoot farther away from her on the couch, "Is this better?" I ask slowly.

Miley shakes her head- back and fourth violently- "Stop being so accommodating, Lilly, stop being so _sweet_ to me… I don't… you don't understand what I," She breaks off, shuddering to herself, then stares at me with weak eyes.

"I don't care, I don't care what you've done before Miley, I want this, I want us," I assure her strongly, staring back at her and I feel it, deep inside myself- this is _right_ we are _right_- now if only she could see that again.

She laughs dryly, at herself as she stares at her clasped hands, "You would hate me, you wouldn't want me if you knew," Miley says, looking up now, straight in front of her.

"Try me."

"I slept with her, I slept with Adrianna." Her face is blank and eyes dead.

I blink once and then again, I wipe my sweaty palms on my nice jeans.

Everything stops.

My heart-

My breath-

And then everything else starts to move.

The room spins and I feel like throwing up.

Something inside me lurches left and I want to throw myself to the ground and clean out the insides of my stomach.

But, instead, I stare; I stare up then down and by doing so my body speeds up- heart beating impetuously against my hot skin, I place a hand to my chest to feel it because for a moment I can't feel anything.

For some odd reason my memory of our first time becomes so very vivid- it flickers like a silent film in my third eye. I see us together on that bed, our bodies undressed and pressed together- perfect… perfect… And then what Miley said, what she said after she made love to me in her bedroom echoes hauntingly through my mind, _"You are my whole world..."_ And I knew lying with her that morning that she meant it, she meant every word-

And now, sitting next to her, not close to her, far from her, I know she means these words too, except this time her words rub raw and hard against me.

"_You are my whole world…whole world… whole world…"_

Stop it! Stop it!

"I just want everything to _stop_!" I scream, pulling at my hair, tears pricking the corners of my eyes.

"Lilly?"

Miley is finally looking at me, and she looks to me and I lose it, everything just comes to me in full force- I watch as tears pour heavily, silently from her perfect eyes. I watch her chin quiver and her lips tremble as she whispers my name, my name- again and again, in question.

"Lilly? Lilly?" And then she inhales, weakly, as if she didn't want to breathe, as if she didn't want to take in air to live, she looks so broken, just helpless, just hopeless.

I think I'm going insane…

"Say something, please, say something…" She begs me, slipping over her words with her tears and quivering lips, "Please, _hate_ me…"

"When did you… when did you…" I can't say it, I won't say it.

"Three days after you left."

This is _killing_ me- a slow sharp sting running madly across my spine.

I feel like the ceiling is lowering, I feel like it's on my back pressing me to the ground and I can't breathe in here, the world is crushing… pushing…

"Why would you _do_ that?" I whisper, voice betraying me, showing my emotions, showing my hurt.

"I wish I could explain, Lilly, I wish I could take it back or… or anything at this point… I just want it to go away; I just want to not _feel_ anything anymore, but…" She presses both hands to her chest, over her heart, "All I have is this deep stab of regret and… and just _pain_. I keep hurting you, for no logically reason…"

Over and over, I think about it, over and over there is pain and hurt- pain and hurt.

I look up, I look up to the ceiling, as if answers are written there but there is nothing so I close my eyes and let loose my tears, I let them slide lazily down the sides of my face as I look up… look up.

I open my mouth, after turning to look back down blinking the tears away, I open my mouth and with determination, "I don't care," I say slowly and forcefully.

"What?" She asks, a little breathless.

"I don't care, Miley," I turn to her and stare, leveling my eyes with hers, "I love you."

She jumps up from the couch, quickly as if burned, "No, no, don't _say_ that!"

"Why? I'm being honest with you, I refuse to just… I won't leave you, I won't do that again, we saw how well that worked and it doesn't! I can't be away from you! I love you! I _love_ you!"

"Stop it! Just… don't say those things to me, Lilly, I'm not… I'm not…" Miley folds her arms and then unfolds them, letting her arms hang at her sides, "I'm not good."

I get up and touch her cheek with my knuckles, running them up and down her face slowly, "You are good to me, you are what I want, you are _so _good." I whisper.

"Lilly," She says, eyes closed, forgetting herself for a moment, she places her hand on my hand and it feels very good, "Lilly," She says again in that husky way that makes me just melt.

"I love you, Miley," I smile, leaning my face close to hers so my lips are by her cheek, "I'm always going to love you…"

I feel her body shake and then I hear her crying, "I'm sorry, so sorry, but- just no, I can't do this anymore."

"You're not making any sense," I blurt, backing away from her are she turns her back to me.

"It doesn't have to make sense, Lilly, I just know I can't do this anymore, it _hurts_," She says and I watch her shoulders fall, slump, a defeated pose.

"…Don't you care about me at all?"

"Oh God!" She quickly turns on her heel, "Yes, I care so much, so much about you… you were the first person who tried to save me, save me from myself."

"Tried?" I inquire without much emotion. I thought I did save her.

She breathes deeply, "You can't save me, no one can, that's why I need us to end. You need someone who can love you without anything holding them back, my past controls me, Lilly, I live in it, I can't erase it, can't move forward…"

"That's ludicrous and you know it! That's shit and you _know_ it, Miley!" I snap, losing my cool completely, "If you don't love me then just say it! Don't hide behind what that _monster_ did to you! And don't hide behind Adrianna! Be real with me, be honest."

We lock eyes for a quick heated moment, and then Miley sighs.

"You should leave now."

"Why?"

Miley frowns unhappily, "There's nothing left to say, I can't make you see, see how bad I' am for you, how doomed we are, it'll never be good."

I grab her right hand in mine and squeeze it gently, "But it was good, so good, don't you remember?"

"And then it wasn't, it turned sour because I couldn't handle myself," She pushes my hand away angrily, "Can't you understand? I _don't_ know who I' am! How am I suppose to love someone if I don't know who I' am! And I will _not_ string you along as I try to gather myself together… I will _not_ keep you selfishly all to myself just to have you realize one day that I'm not what you want…I don't want that for you," Miley whispers, "I only want you to be happy."

"And what if I say that you make me happy?"

"I would call you a fool," Miley says with a tight unreadable face.

I didn't know before but now I realize that I'm crying. Tears are streaming down my face, they tickle my lips, and I lick and taste the salt.

"Please, Lilly, just go," Miley murmurs quietly, voice weak and face sad.

"Can I ask you something first?"

She nods, eyes closing for a moment, lips slightly parted.

"Can I kiss you?" I ask shyly, because I just want one more, just something to savor over my lips for the rest of my life. I watch Miley's eyes flutter open and a sorrowful expression pass over her beautiful features.

"No, no I'm afraid that if we do that I'll change my mind again," She says.

"See," I add humorously, "and that's precisely why I want to kiss you."

Miley smiles a sad dismantled smile, "I think it would be best for both of us if you just left."

We walk to the door, Miley opens it slowly and I take a moment to watch her, my eyes trailing up from her hand to her arm, shoulder then face.

"You know," I begin standing in her doorway, "I'm _never_ going to stop loving you; I'm never going to forget you. So don't think you've won, because you haven't…" I pause watching her face, watching her cry for herself and maybe even for me, "Miley Stewart you are my girl whether you want to admit or not and I'm yours, I love you now and I'll love you after you finish this inner battle."

And then, with all my strength I turn on my heel and walk away, leaving my wildly beating heart behind with her.

I slam Ernie's door shut and that crack of sound explodes over the dark night, disrupting the peace. As I back out of Miley's driveway I look back, because I have to, and I see Miley watching from the doorway, her arms wrapped around herself, face that of stone. I let my eyes linger over her form and then turn my headlights on and drive away…

Tears keep falling all the way to Oliver's house.

XxXxXxXxX

It's around ten but I know Oliver's parents are still up; they never seem to sleep- both night owls at heart.

I use my own personal key and open Oliver's door, peering inside I spot Mr. Oken and he smiles at me from his painting that's set up in the living- he's painting a city skyline it's lovely and I tell him so.

"Looking for Oliver?" He asks, washing a paintbrush off with his white shirt.

I nod.

"He should be upstairs with Sarah I believe."

"Thanks."

"Hey Lilly?"

I say nothing, one foot on the first step and the other still on the ground.

"You look bad, something wrong?"

"Nothing I can't handle," I say with humor.

"You're a tough cookie," Mr. Oken remarks with a laugh returning to his painting, "A touch cookie."

XxXxXxXxX

I knock twice on Oliver's halfway closed door and wait, loving the feel of the dark empty hallway.

"Come in!"

I walk inside, "Hey guys," I say with a quick wave.

Sarah is lying at the top of Oliver's bed with a book in her lap and Oliver is down towards the end of the bed playing with Sarah's socked feet.

Oliver gives me a dirty glare, "Where have you been?"

"I bumped into someone and we decided to catch up," I reply simply plopping down in Oliver's computer chair, taking a short spin around- I like the feeling of spinning, head dizzy, world blurry.

"Who did you bump into?" Sarah asks turning the page of her book after licking her index finger.

"Just somebody…"

Oliver makes his pissy sigh and I know that it was a mistake coming over; I really don't want to talk about it.

"Hey," Sarah says with a frown, looking up from her book, "Were you… were you _crying_?"

Quickly, my hand wipes both eyes and I smile, "Why would you say that?"

"You're face is red and your eyes are… Lilly, you've been crying!" Oliver remarks, sitting up suddenly, "Who do I have to beat up?!" He growls angrily while bunching up his fists.

I laugh dryly, "Nobody, calm yourself Hulk."

"Be serious!" He insists.

I roll my eyes, frustrated, "I ran into Miley at the store and we talked at her house, okay! Are you happy now?! Jesus, Mary, and Joseph what is this twenty fucking questions?!"

Both are silent.

Oliver clears his throat, "So what happened?"

I wipe my eyes because (can't fucking believe it!) I'm crying again, "She said she doesn't want to see me anymore… so we're done."

"Oh, Lilly, I'm sorry," Oliver whispers walking over to me, wrapping an arm around me, hugging me nice and close.

I hear Sarah sigh angrily.

"What's your problem?" Oliver asks turning to her.

Sarah sits up straighter, "It's not that I'm not sorry for you Lilly, but I mean… you guys are _so_ ridiculous! I'm sorry but you two are so confusing! You're together then you break up then you're together and now you're broken up! I just don't understand why you two can't just put aside everything and _be_ together?!"

Oliver loosens his grip on me, "I think it's a little more complicated then that Sarah, it seems to me you're really over simplifying everything."

"How?" Sarah asks.

"Well," Oliver starts, scratching behind his ear but Sarah buts in quickly.

"If two people _really_ love each other they should be able to act mature and just stay together." She comments firmly, but playing with the hem of her shirt nervously.

I'm taken back, "Are you insinuating that I don't love Miley?" I ask her hotly.

Sarah shrugs nonchalantly, "I don't know, but it seems you two create problems where there are none, it seems like you two just can't coexist without constant conflict…"

Oliver swallows nervously, sensing my discomfort, "M-Maybe, Sarah, it's not our place to judge Lilly and Miley's relationship… I mean we don't know what they're like alone together…"

Sarah nods, "That may be, but I'm still lost," She looks to me, "Why can't you be together? What's stopping you?"

My fists are so tightly balled together that my nails are digging fiercely into my palms, "Well, gee, Sarah, I'm sorry Miley and I can't be as damn perfect as you and Oliver!"

"Who says we're perfect!" Both Sarah and Oliver protest together.

I shake my head, "Forget it, nothing matters I'm going home."

"No," Oliver protests, grabbing my arm, "Listen, all relationships have rough patches, but if it's over between you and Miley then I just hope you can move on with your life, are you listening Lilly?"

I hate being treated like a child. "Yes, I'm listening."

Oliver gets on his knees so that he is sitting in front of me, our eyes connecting, and his hands rest on each my knees- squeezing them for comfort, "Are you okay tonight? Driving home? You want to spend the night?" He asks sweetly.

"No thanks," I decline ruffling his hair affectionately, "But I appreciate it."

We smile.

"I'm sorry, Lilly, I didn't mean to make you upset…" Sarah offers softly, getting off the bed, "I never understand you or Miley, and I hate seeing you two act so foolishly," Sarah stands tall above Oliver her hand resting on his shoulder, "Would you mind if I stole Oliver for a moment, Lilly?"

"Guess not."

He looks up at her with a weird tilt of his head but follows her out into the hallway. They don't close the door all the way; I can hear them shuffling their feet and then silence. I keep perfectly still; trying to listen to their sudden whispers- I catch fragments.

"I'm not…. Why are you being so…"

"_Excuse_ me mister…. I know what she meant and now means to…"

"Stop, it's not like that I'm…. you are my present and future…."

"… Sorry but…. understand?"

"Of course…"

I try to act casually when Oliver comes back into the room without Sarah. "So what's going on?" I ask picking at my fingernails.

"Sarah's heading home, she's tired." Oliver says collapsing onto his bed with a yawn.

I rub the back of my neck, "You guys are cool, right?"

Oliver nods, "Yeah, Sarah's my lady," He ends with a smirk.

I point my thumb to the door, "So that little spat was completely normal?"

Oliver blushes, "It's stupid… we were just quarreling about past problems, sometimes Sarah can be really insecure about stuff."

"Like what?"

Oliver rolls his eyes, "I thought we were discussing your break-up?"

"Well, we did and I'm so sick of myself right now and besides not talking is better as long as I don't talk about what happened tonight I won't fall apart, so tell me about Sarah."

Oliver light punches his pillow in mock frustration, "its old news, Lilly, it happened when she and I first started dating."

I laugh, "What is it, just tell me, Christ!"

"Sarah thought… well, she thought I still had a thing for you, so she and I broke up for a little while."

I can't help it, I giggle, "Oh my God, she must be on drugs or something," And then I stop and frown as realization hits me, "Wait, when was this? How come I wasn't aware of this when it happened?"

"You were preoccupied with Lauren and dealing with your own stuff, and it wasn't a big deal, we broke up for a month, maybe a month probably less, and then got back together." Oliver assures me.

I feel like shit, "But I'm your friend, you should be able to talk to me about things like that, Oliver, don't shut me out…"

"Sorry."

Oliver readjusts his position on his bed, lying on his back, arm behind his head propping him up. I put my feet up on Oliver's desk and sigh comfortably, leaning back in the chair. We are quiet. My eyes feel heavy.

"Hey Oliver?"

"Humpf?" He mumbles tiredly.

I have to ask because it's just not making sense inside my head, "Why would Sarah even think that you still had something for me?"

"You and I are very close Lilly," Oliver says, choosing his words carefully and slowly, "It makes sense, we were rarely apart in high school, before and after we dated."

"Yes, but why didn't you just tell Sarah that?" I ask, staring up at the ceiling, "Why didn't you explain to her that we are just very close and nothing romantic exists?"

Oliver rubs his eyes when I turn to look at him, "I'm tired, Lilly, can't we just drop it? Sarah and I are together, what happened is in the past."

"Answer my question and I won't bring it up again."

"Because I did have romantic feelings for you Lilly, and Sarah couldn't be second so she dumped me. But I don't have feelings for you anymore, now drop the subject."

I shut my mouth and keep my focus on my propped up feet.

XxXxXxXxX

I left Oliver; his room suddenly became a trapped space rather a safe haven I always made it out to be. Strange, the way truth destroys paradise.

I'm home now, dropping my keys and wallet into the blue painted bowl in the kitchen where we usually store loose change. I kick off both shoes, leaving them haphazardly tossed onto the spotless kitchen floor- to dirtier up something is a pleasure.

I walk with purpose into my father's study, a dark room full of leather chairs, brown walls, and books. He usually keeps his expensive scotch in the second drawer of his grand desk. I open the drawer and smile, a full bottle, the seal not yet broken.

I hold the glass bottle in my hand and walk up the stairs, lightly running my other hand along the railing as I slowly make my way up the spiral staircase. The silence and eerie darkness of my house makes me feel positively devil-like, sneaking scotch into my bedroom, uncapping it and dosing down a good mouth full. It tingles going down and I relish in its odd taste.

Sluggishly, I undress myself, after setting the alcohol down on top of my dresser. I stand revealing myself only to the moon who shines with a perverted smile about my bedroom. Running a finger over my CD collection I try to find an artist to play, I want a mood; I want to create a very specific mood to fit my tattered heart.

"Aha, perfect." I say.

Placing the disk carefully into my CD player I hit the on button and wait- _The Water_ by Feist pours elegantly from the speakers and I smile drunkenly.

Crawling into bed, the cool comfort of my bed and sheets soothing my bare skin I drink and listen, drink and listen…

**XxXxXxXxX**

**Author's Note: **Leave your thoughts.


	52. All Four Dimensions

**Author's Note-** I've been pretty busy. I spent the last month or so in Paris with my girlfriend and her parents. I really, _really_ wanted to get another chapter written before I left explaining that I'd be gone for a while but I didn't have enough time… if you ever get the chance to run off to The City of Lights please do it- I suggest buying a black beret and standing at the top of the Eiffel Tower wearing it, you'll feel so stereotypical it'll make you laugh.

I think there's one tiny thing I need to establish quickly in concerns to Mile's character, the reason for this stems from _so_ many of reviewers strong dislike of Miley in the past few chapters. Here's the one clue into her mind set- _Cognitive Dissonance_, that's it, that's all I'm sharing and giving… unless, you _really_ want more details then I will be more then happy to send out a character analysis.

_**The Rising Tide-**_ I _know_ I love it when authors comment back to me as well, gives me a tingly feeling inside. Anyway, I'm proud to know that I hold your longest review. I'm glad I can write something that you can keep coming back to, even if my updating skills suck.

_**mileymadness-**_ I like to think of Sarah as (some what) the voice of reason through all the Miley and Lilly madness. I'm also sorry I made you cry! But if you felt it was needed and a good thing that I'm happy to give you some kind of release.

_**impeccableblahs- **_Oh my God! I just want to be your friend, seriously, your review rocked and I love ramblings- the elephant part made me laugh. And come on! First person is considered to be the easiest of all writing perspectives! You can write in first person, I know it, all you have to do is write how you feel… also about the last comment you left (I came back to the reviews and saw you left another one and my heart leapt up in my mouth in anticipation) that was just… amazing- you really get to me in your reviews. I've actually been toying with an idea for Lauren for the past few days… however Lauren was never supposed to be very important, I actually wasn't going to have her come back at all- but I changed my mind (I do that a lot). Lauren was a character I was going to leave up to the readers to figure out- but now I'm going back and forth- can't make up my mind. Also, the reason she's not depicting very nicely is because her character is based off an old girlfriend of mine- I didn't want to be nice, buuuuut who knows I might bring her back because there's still more NY fun in store for Lilly. Love you, love your reviews.

_**bunchesofoats18-**_ I seriously want to take you out for some coffee, or beverage of any kind, so that in person I could somehow show you the affect your review had on me, somehow articulate the rush, the electric feeling that possessed me when I read that. I go back every now and then (because I'm vain and self centered) to re-read it and all over again it charges me, makes me want to write and write and write… thank-you for all your warm kindness. I _love_ hearing my reader's opinions/thoughts/assumptions about characters and you were spot on with your suggestions on Miley, to me she is the real tragedy, she is the dark outline of a human, nothing on the inside because she has lost everything in life. Once again I loved your words and I hope to never disappoint. (Also, after I read your review I was anxious to read something of _yours_ and I must say I was surprised not to find anything- please write, you seem so comfortable with words and your diction is magnificent, so please write something!)

_**ReallyObsessiveWriter-**_ What you said is completely fine, you did not insult me one bit, you were simply giving your opinion which is what I ask at the end of each chapter. Yes, my stories are angsty (that I do admit) however I think I put just as equally good things with Lilly as I do bad, I would consider Oliver a great victory. Anyway, I love your honesty and your review and I hope I can change your mind in the up-coming chapters. Thanks again!

_**Squire Conrad- **_Ah, you _so_ get my characters. I always love seeing a snippet of your thoughts on my version of the characters, and thanks for understanding where Miley is coming from, a lot of people didn't. And I'm glad you understand why I cut the Oliver-Sarah storyline, it was a big decision for me to make and now looking back I'm so very happy I did take it out. Love hearing from you!

_**Impeacheuan3122-**_ I'm always thrilled to read when I can change someone's mind about a particular pair… and I'm also thrilled to know that I'm not the only one who notices that most Lilly/Miley story writers always have the same disclaimer establishing that they are not gay, as if it's a bad thing that they want to detach themselves from, as if it would be social suicide to announce one's gayness… next time I write about Lilly and Oliver I'm going to make a disclaimer that reads "I'M NOT STRAIGHT." Anyway, sorry for my ramble, thanks so much for your review I'm always excited when new readers join in.

**Author's Note-**I can't get to everyone, I know that, I blame my extreme laziness, but just know that all of the reviews I receive make my day and I appreciate them- you keep me going and I'm humbled at the attention I receive for a story that wasn't supposed to be more then ten chapters long.

**XxXxXxXxX**

"Oh my God, are you _drunk_?"

Groggily, I slowly revive from a dreamless sleep, throat raw. I turn my face to the side, away from my pillow.

I see my mother standing with her hands on her hips giving me her best _death glare_. I almost laugh because it reminds me of the time when I was six and Nate dared me to steal not one but _four_ cookies my mother made earlier that day that were specifically made for after dinner. She gave me this exact look, I remember, I stood in the kitchen doorway pointing a finger to Nate, blaming him as the mastermind. She didn't buy it then and she doesn't buy it now when I say, "No, I'm not drunk…"

"Get up! Get up out of bed, I don't give a _damn_ how old you are missy, drunks belong to the streets not _my_ house!" My mother fumes, venom spewing from her dark lipstick lips as she tears all the covers off my bed and slaps the edge of my mattress.

"M_ooooo_m!" I moan angrily, gripping my pillow and pulling it over my head with one hand while the other holds tight to the single sheet that's wrapped around my body, "Seriously, I'm just tired, oh my _God_!"

"Then explain this?"

I peer out from under my pillow and see her holding the bottle of scotch I finished off late last night, she looks rather pleased with herself, to find herself in the right and I in the wrong- I have been told by numerous individuals that my mother and I share that same pleased smirk.

"I'm almost twenty-one…" I say sheepishly, man, I used to be better at this- making up shit excuses.

"Save the crap, Lillian, now Oliver is downstairs asking for you… oh and I suggest putting on some clothes, for God's sake Lilly, you're turning into a hippie!" She turns around and walks out in a huff, I wait until I can no longer hear her high heels click the hardwood before I start to cackle wildly- hand to my aching forehead and hair spread about the extra pillows, I laugh- mouth open eyes blurry from tears.

After throwing on a white undershirt and boy's boxers I make my way down the hall. Somewhere between the third and fourth step downward on my spiral staircase a wild lurch of my stomach attacks and I have to vomit. Racing, I make the half bath just in time to throw my body at the toilet and empty myself.

"Lilly?"

"Go away," I moan with my head in the toilet. God, why don't they show this side of drinking on those TV commercials where everyone is so fucking happy with a cocktail in one hand and a cigarette in the other?

I know it's Oliver because he rubs my back soothingly and doesn't say a word, just runs his whole hand softly into my back up and down side to side. His warmth feels nice as I dry heave and cough frantically into the white throne, sweat soaking the back of my neck- now this is a true friend.

"You good now?"

I pull away and flush the toilet, wiping my face and I nod, throat too coated with ache and sour taste to really say something.

"I'm sorry about last night…" He begins.

I wave his apologize aside as I stumble to my feet, "It's so not even an issue at this point," I say washing my hands, then splashing cool water to my face.

He nods looking rather gloomy, "I was under the impression that you stopped drinking yourself silly? I mean you haven't been hammered since…"

I dry my face off with a green hand towel, "I get smashed all the time Oliver, it's no different this time then it was all the others- when Nate died, when we broke up, when Lauren left me… and the list goes on, I do it for fun, I do it to forget… it's what I do!"

Oliver makes his angry face, "That's pathetic."

"What is? My inability to cope with harsh reality or this witty banter we seem to always partake in?" I ask dryly while walking out of the bathroom, Oliver behind me.

"Everything!" Oliver exclaims as we walk into my bedroom, I close the door behind us and then begin sifting through my closet for something to wear. Oliver takes a place in the corner sitting on my armchair.

"Be a little more specific on _everything_," I tell him, still ruffling through my clothes. What about a plaid shirt today? Something comfortable, not fashionable, just plain and simple… yeah a blue plaid shirt will do topped off with some worn down jeans.

"Lilly, can you please pretend to be listening by looking at me?" Oliver says sharply, out of the corner of my eye I see him stand up.

"I need to bathe," I say, looking bored, "We can talk later, I smell horrible and if we're going to have a thrown down I'd like to shower first."

"Fine! Whatever, I don't give a shit anymore!" Oliver huffs, walking away. He's so moody in the morning, it's sad really I mean I still don't know what we're fighting about. I watch him walk away and then I grab some underwear and matching bra and walk slowly into my bathroom.

XxXxXxXxX

When I get out of the shower and walk downstairs it is dark outside and raining hard, the house empty- both of my parents at work, a typical Monday. Into the kitchen I find some comfort, a note written in Oliver's hand resting by the coffee maker-

_Lilly, _

_Stop being such an ass- you are better then the scotch, then the drinking, focus on your writing… focus on things that matter…We will talk later, after we've chilled._

I smile and leave the note written on yellow lined paper on the counter and begin making a pot of coffee. The smell makes me happy.

XxXxXxXxX

It's late in the afternoon and I'm sitting by the bay window in the white living room watching as raindrops line the window and leave their wet streaks behind. I fog up the window with my warm breath and scribble her name over and over with mine- silly, elementary almost… playground promises- her name with mine- always together…. Playground lies they are…(_Miley… Miley and Lilly…_)

I haven't called Oliver and he hasn't called me. But I have a plan, a vain one but I'm crossing my fingers for a victory.

Sarah picks up on the second ring, she sounds indifferent with her short hello over the phone.

"Hey it's Lilly…"

"Oh, hi Lilly, how are you?" Sarah is a doll, but I bet she could care less how I'm doing, such Miss. Manners.

"I'm pretty good, though I'd be crushed if you denied the offer I'm about to throw your way." I smile into the phone trying my hand at being charming…

"What is it?"

"Have dinner with me."

There is a long pause that makes my skin itch.

"When and where?" Sarah finally replies letting me exhale.

"_Al's Pizza Palace_ in fifteen minutes?"

"I'll be there."

XxXxXxXxXxX

_Al's Pizza Palace_ is classier then it sounds. It's a small restaurant in the heart of the town square where the windows over look the library and it's giant fountain. I love _Al's_ for the large red leather booths and dim lights that hang low to the table, so low that on occasion I have been known to bang my forehead into them…

I'm sipping my ice water when Sarah arrives, her hair is frizzier then usual and she's wearing her trademark sundress outfit. Her skin is sunburned but it looks rather nice, it gives a light pink tint to her pale complexion.

We wave and she takes a seat opposite to me, running her fingers through her hair and taking off her purse.

"It's chilly in here," She smiles, rubbing her bare shoulders.

I nod while making an "uhhum" noise.

We order drinks and a large cheese pizza and then I smile at her as she adjusts her glasses.

"You're probably wondering why I asked you here…"

Sarah gives a soft grin, "You would be right, considering our last conversation, come to get even?" She chuckles lightly.

"Naw, I'm not vengeful… least not with my best friend's girl." I assure her light heartedly.

Sarah shrugs while putting a straw into her pink lemonade, "So why am I here?"

I rub my forehead gingerly, "I want to make amends."

Sarah's eyebrows shoot up above her hairline, "You?"

"Yes… I'm a selfish person, I think you know that already though, right?"

Sarah says nothing and I'm thankful for it.

"Oliver is my very best friend, he's my guy," I stop when I see Sarah flinch slightly, but I continue, "I would do anything for him, but I feel like I missed a large chunk of his life being… well me… I feel like I stepped on your feelings and his by not explaining myself clearly."

"Lilly, I need to stop you," Sarah interrupts softly, "It's been such a long time, you don't need to apologize for something that happened a while back, something that wasn't entirely your fault, something you weren't even aware of."

I shake my head, "But that's what I'm talking about! I wasn't even aware of the fact that my best friend broke up with his girlfriend because… because…."

Sarah frowns, "Because he had feelings for you…" She whispers hotly, "What did Oliver tell you exactly? I'm sure he spilled the beans after I left."

I scratch my chin thoughtfully, "Not much, he said it was a short break up… but he didn't talk much…"

Sarah shakes her head and smiles weakly, "We were broken up for five months I never thought of that as a _short_ break up," Sarah looks directly at me, "He _really _loved you, you know."

My heart stops for a moment, Sarah's seriousness- the lines forming between her eyebrows makes me stop.

"I didn't…" I can't finish.

"Everybody could see it… the way he looked at you, talked about you, the way he cared… everyone knew…" Sarah seems to be speaking more so to herself then me, "I always had feelings for Oliver but I knew nothing would _ever _happen… I wasn't… wasn't… I'm not like you, Lilly." Sarah focuses on me, eyes burning into mine sadly.

I swallow a laugh, "Me? I'm not… I mean I'm horrible."

Sarah sighs, "You don't see it, you're brave and you speak your mind… you're beautiful too and such a talented writer… I'm not even a worthy comparison."

"Stop this!" I scowl, slamming my hands on the table, "I brought you here to make you feel better not worse! You're wonderful, you're perfect for Oliver, and if you don't recall we broke up, Sarah, I fucked everything up-"

Sarah shuts her eyes, "See! You broke up with him, Lilly! He didn't turn you away! He wanted you and I'm sure deep down he still does…"

"He couldn't, you know that, he wants only you." I assure her sternly.

"No, he doesn't, if you weren't gay Lilly he would be all over you, and you know it," Sarah replies angrily, "I'm always second… that's why we broke up before… I didn't want to be his rebound… God, what exactly did you plan on accomplishing here, Lilly? Why would you reopen past wounds? How would you feel if I talked about Miley?" Sarah spits nastily.

I recoil my hands and look away from her, "That's not the same you and Oliver are together," I say looking down at my napkin.

Sarah breathes deeply, her eyes closed and mouth open slightly, "Yes but everything hurts just the same."

The pizza comes but neither of us touch it, I'm not hungry anymore and Sarah looks as awful as I feel right now.

"I should go," She says standing, then digging through her purse, "It was a nice effort, Lilly," She puts ten dollars on the table and leaves. I stare at the money and then outside to the fountain. The urge to call Miley overwhelms me and it surges through my chest violently. Just to hear her voice, just to hear her pick up the phone and say "hello," it would be enough and then I could hang up and maybe that feeling would die a little. But I can't, instead I pick at the pizza crust for a few moments before ordering a to-go box and I leave, but not before I bang my head on the low ceiling light.

XxXxXxXxX

I am driving, Oliver is next to me not speaking, a bag of melting taffy is between us untouched and all four windows are down. My CD _The Builders and the Butchers _is playing track number three. It's getting late but the hot sun stays even with the horizon and the sky is a thick yellow orange.

Ernie is plowing through unpaved roads, kicking up rocks and dirt and leaving a trail of dust behind as we move, faster and faster down a perfectly straight road stuck between virgin fields of yellow grass, fields no farmer has ever planted across.

We pass run down barns and shabby white houses missing front doors. I've got my black sunglasses on, one hand out the window and another hand leisurely holding the steering wheel. Track number four starts up and I smile then begin to sing along, "_…She wore black dresses! And she never smiled in the morning!_"

"Lilly you can't sing."

"Shut-up Oliver," I snap playfully before continuing, "_… And she was born with a stone where there should have been a heart!_"

"Come on," Oliver whines, "Number five is better, change it!"

"Don't you dare!" I warn and he pulls his hand back to his lap, the song ends and we keep moving, the sun feels good on my bare arms.

"My turn!" Oliver cheers pulling out his CD choice, not showing me he pops it in and selections song number seven.

Eddie Vedder's voice fills the car and road with his song _Hard Sun_. I raise an eyebrow at Oliver.

"It's the _Into the Wild_ soundtrack," Oliver answers propping his feet up on my dashboard and sliding his yellow colored sunglass on and smiling a big goofy grin, "I fucking love that movie."

I roll my eyes and we continue listening screaming the lyrics that we know. (_"Forty days and forty nights and it's still coming down on me!"_)

I pull off the road when I see our destination, Ernie bumps along the rolling meadow, Oliver and I laugh as we are jostled about in our seats. The now green grass stretches on for miles and miles- perfectly green making a line between the perfectly now red orange sky. I stop the car and turn it off at the rusting wire fence that keeps a herd of cows behind it; the cows munch on the grass and pay no mind to Oliver and me as Oliver tears open the taffy bag with his teeth.

"Blue?" He offers.

"Why thank-you, comrade," I take it and twist open the wax paper before popping it into my mouth with a child smile.

"So I heard you and Sarah had a chat yesterday?" Oliver asks his mouth full of banana flavored taffy.

I swallow mine and choke a little as the bulge of blue raspberry taffy sluggishly slides down my throat. I point to the cooler of water bottles nestled next to Oliver and he throws me one. I take a swig of ice water and nod to answer his question.

"Yeah we had a talk."

Oliver plays with his empty taffy wrapper, "About what?" He wonders trying to seem nonchalant.

"Oh you know, Sarah's decided to try out lesbianism and she's picked me as her mentor, so we went back to my place and had hot, nasty sex, did you know she likes dirty talk?"

Oliver chokes on his taffy, eyes bulging out of his face. I can't help it (because I'm immature) I start to laugh so hard my sides begin to hurt.

"Holy shit, Oliver your face was classic!"

He isn't listening, Oliver is hanging out the window spitting out his taffy, coughing. "Lilly!" He finally says sitting down wiping his mouth angrily, "_Not_ funny"

"Then why am I laughing?" I remark smugly.

"Jesus," Oliver sighs, putting a hand to his chest, "God, I'm going to have nightmares for weeks."

I snort, "Yeah, sure if that's what they call wet dreams these days."

We share a smile then resume eating and watching the cows and the sky.

"But really," Oliver says later, "What did you guys talk about? Sarah seemed a little upset yesterday…"

"As usual it was all my fault, I brought up some not so great memories for her and she freaked and ran out on me."

Another silence.

"What memories?"

I pause, chewing my orange taffy slowly, thinking of a way to say this, thinking of a way to tell him I'm digging deep into the past for no sane reason.

"I wanted to know why you two broke up and why you never told me about it."

Oliver slides back into his seat letting out a low hiss, he rubs his eyes, shaking his head, "That was _really_ stupid, Lilly, I wouldn't have pegged you as someone who would intrude on Sarah's feelings… especially considering you chop anyone's head off who dare mentions you know who…"

_Miley, Miley, Miley- _like a dream, like a heavy fog she settles over me and my skin gets hot and the roof of my mouth goes dry. I miss her, desperately, I miss her completely.

"Yeah well," I mumble, "I'm touchy like that… I just want to make Sarah feel better, less insecure."

"Well welcome to the club!" Oliver chuckles.

"Can we just eat and sit and not talk about our significant others for once?" I ask with hope.

"That's what I love best about you, Lilly, you have the _best_ ideas."

"I'll eat some taffy to that my boy!"

And then we eat, chewing like the cows admiring the setting sun and early evening chill on our arms.

XxXxXxXxX

I believe I have been patient. Three days is enough time to find yourself, right? I've been mulling it over in my mind for the past hour or so. I'm sitting on a swing in the empty park that I consider to be "our" park. The sun is hot on my back and I know I will have a nice tan to return to New York with. I'm in the editing process of my play, but it still doesn't feel finished to me, something is desperately missing, and a title that I'm waiting until the very end of this process to decide on.

Harold has been calling me nonstop this whole trip, he and Aunt Alessandra have been hassling me about coming back; they offered me a part time position at the theater. The pay is shit but I get to work in the mornings filing, taking calls, and sending out memos for any upcoming productions. It's a secretary job but Harold thinks it will be good for me and Aunt Alessandra likes the idea of me making my own money, not just living off my parent's wealth. "_You've got to make your own way in life_…" She told me before I left for this spring visit.

But now sitting in the hot sun, the world moving on regularly, dauntingly normal on this Tuesday afternoon, I realize that work and my play take a backseat to her. So I pick myself up and walk the familiar streets to her house.

Miley's house looks beautiful in the spring, I didn't notice that three days ago when I arrived in the dark… but walking up her driveway with a light breeze keeping me company I can't help but notice the beauty. A colorful array of tulips line my walk up to her front door, tall ancient trees peek up from behind the roof of the house and a wild flower fragrance graces my nose. This makes me feel confidant.

I knock and wait, my mind is buzzing with things I want to say, want her to understand.

"Lilly?"

My gaze falls on Mr. Stewart, wearing a dark gray shirt and blue jeans with mud on the knees and a glass of lemonade in his hand, and sweat drenching his brow- he looks like he was working in the garden out back.

"Hey, is, ummm, is Miley here?"

He scratches behind his neck nervously, "Ah, no, no she's not…" He seems confused about something, "I thought she would 'ave told you."

"Told me what?"

He gestures for me to come inside and I follow him wiping my sweaty palms on my jeans. We walk into the small kitchen were there's a pitcher of lemonade out on the counter. I see an empty vase and a bundle of freshly picked flowers on the table resting beside it; it looks as though I've disturbed Mr. Stewart from arranging them. It's such a sweet image I feel like crying. This is a _home_. Pictures of Miley and Jackson line the living room around the fireplace, the windows are open letting in that nice breeze, and somewhere in another room I hear music playing quietly, I think it's country music.

Mr. Stewart sets down his glass on the counter, his muddy fingers have smudged the sides of it, "Would you like some lemonade, Lilly? I just made it this mornin' and oh," He seems to have realized the bundle of flowers lying on the table, "Sorry 'bout the mess I was uhhh… Miley's momma liked tulips so I… anyway sorry 'bout the mess," He repeats quickly, nervously gathering the flowers and placing them inside the vase. I watch him move to the sink and fill the vase with water, "There now," He whispers softly arranging the flowers neatly. He then turns to me with a small smile, "Lemonade?"

I nod, because I can't deny this sweet man anything right now. He gets another glass, fills it and sets it on the table with the flowers. We both seat ourselves and I take a large gulp and smack my lips pleasantly because it's nice and sugar sweet.

"So as I was sayin' I'm surprised Miley didn't contact you… I thought she would have at least said goodbye."

"Goodbye?" I'm frantic now.

Mr. Stewart nods sadly, "She and her friend Dillon got a place in downtown LA, they're going to split the rent costs, Miley left two days ago… it was all pretty sudden."

I tap my foot nervously under the table, "But… but did she say anything about…umm… anything? Coming back? School? … M-Me?"

He sighs, "She's still attending college in LA… and she's going to be in another production come fall, so that'll keep her pretty busy, but I'm going to that production, I always go to her first showing. I don't know when she'll be back here though… and you, uhhh, hold on I got something." He stands and walks away leaving me to stare at my lemonade in silence.

He comes back minutes later holding a small worn out looking brown book, I remember what that is, it's Miley's-

"This is her journal… Miley told me to give it to you if I ever saw you… but," He scratches his ear, face scrunched up in thought, "But I always thought she'd at least say goodbye to you… anyway, she told me you could have this, that maybe it would make things a bit clearer for you."

He hands me the journal and I feel something rumbling in the pit of my stomach, I cradle the book like a newborn. My throat closes up… _her journal_, she gave me her _journal_.

"Listen Lilly, I wanna say somethin'," He takes a seat next to me and I watch him very closely and he does the same to me, his eyes burning into mine, "I want to apologize… I know Miley hurt you, she hurt me too… and I like you, Lilly, I like you a lot and you didn't deserve that kind of treatment. I taught Miley better then that, so did her momma…" He pauses for a moment, taking a breath, "Better then those drugs and… and cheatin' on you, but she's my baby and I love her to death… but I _know_ she loves you. I know that deep inside that she still loves you… so please don't give up on her, please Lilly."

I bite the insides of my cheeks to keep from showing any tears, but it doesn't stop me from letting out a breathy shudder of emotion, "I love her too, but she's making it really h-hard."

He lowers his head and nods slowly, "But maybe that there," He points to the journal I'm now pressing against my chest, "Can somehow mend the wounds."

**XxXxXxXxXxX**

**Author's Note- **So I have a mission for you, because I fail at updating quickly and let's face it who doesn't get tired of my writing? I suggest going to _**letscall-l**_'s fanfic page and livejournal because she is awesome and her stories make me have to take cold showers or pay my girlfriend a visit (she's famous for her Selena and Demi stories just so you know and oh my _GOD_ those two are my new dirty, _dirty_ obsession so if you're writing one or know of anyone else who is writing one tell me because I'm a Selena/Demi crack whore- first step is admitting it). Leave your thoughts…


	53. Healing Her

**Author's Note-** I had a ridiculously fun time writing this chapter. It makes me almost wish I had written the story from Miley's perspective, because there's so much I want to say for her.

_**Squire Conrad- **_Dude, you and me we're like this! (Picture me crossing my two fingers to indicate our closeness). My favorite part of your review- "…then the epic amount of GAY that was Princess Protection Program…" made me laugh so hard I was crying, and you're so right! (I actually started jotting some notes down to write a small snippet of them in that movie but no promises I might trash it). I seriously cannot stop reading your review because it totally blows some unneeded smoke up my ass and makes me giggle. You are far, far too kind my friend! And thank-you for the stories to read, oh my God I'm excited to start reading those! Also, yikes, don't even get me started about being a closeted lesbian to my folks; to them my girlfriend and I are _really_ close friends…

_**Portmanteau-**_ Oh, you flatter me! Top the level of Liley? Not even possible! There are so many ridiculously good ones out there… but it's nice to know that you think so highly of my writing. I'll never turn away a wonderful review, thanks so much.

_**The Rising Tide-**_ I'm so glad the silly things Lilly does make sense. I try not to explain too heavily because I prefer readers to figure things out for themselves and think what they want. And yes, these up coming chapters will mostly be revolved around, as you so eloquently put it, healing (stole that for the chapter title, hope you don't mind, you inspire me). Rambling is _always_ accepted and I sincerely hope that everything works out for you and your loved one; quarrels between friends are always hard- but if they are anything like Oliver they won't be able to stay mad at you for long. Your reviews are always treasured.

_**pirateylove-**_ Okay, this is freaky, I love Missy Higgins! When I was writing _One Art_ (another Lilly/Miley story) I listened to her music _all_ the time. Man, I haven't listened to her in such a long time and as soon as I read your review I went scampering to my CD rack and put in her CD and let _Sugarcane _play over and over again. Believe me it's going in this story, somewhere, I don't know where but it's going in, thanks so much for sharing that with me.

**XxXxXxXxXxX**

It's very early in the morning and I'm outside on the dock watching the water slosh lazily back and forth up against the wooden dock. After I left Mr. Stewart's house I went home to pack, I'm staying at my parent's lake house for the day before heading back to New York tomorrow. It takes only thirty minutes to get to the lake house; it's a nice drive through back roads full of forest and nothing else. I drove in silence, the journal resting in the seat next to me, taunting me, begging to be opened.

I've already given my goodbyes. Oliver and Sarah are heading back to college today…he plans on visiting Aunt Alessandra for summer break and we plan on keeping in touch through letters, e-mails, phone calls, every source of communication. But today I want to be cut off from all things electronic or modern. Today I spend with the water and her.

The journal is in my lap. I keep running my fingers over the brown leather binding, feeling as if I'm blind with my eyes cast to the lake, feeling the texture the dents of this worn and loved secret keeper.

A light fog is settled over the lake. The sun is waking slowly; its rays glitter over the lake and warm my cool skin. I hear birds somewhere high in the trees, and water, I hear the water moving and one of the older boats, tied to the dock, rock side to side, knocking up against it.

And then my eyes and all my attention wander back to the journal, my breathing growing shallow and heart pumping in anticipation, I open it and turn to the first page…

I notice right away that the first page is not written in Miley's handwriting, instead it's a passage addressed to her…

_Miley,_

_Writing can be more therapeutic then anything else in the word. I hope you use this journal to banish the monsters, and reconnect with who you really are. You are a remarkably brave young woman and although you shared very little in our Tuesday sessions, I have faith you will overcome all things._

_Respectfully, _

_Doctor Harris _

I stop for a moment; Miley never told me she saw a therapist. The doctor's note was written in June two years ago. I turn the page, it's dated the same year but in July and it's in Miley's handwriting but it's frantic, sloppy and the ink is smeared at some parts, I start reading…

_There is dirt, so much dirt on my skin- (pale flesh here for the taking, he says)_

_So much-so much- scum, crusting on my arms and legs and face, tiny needles of bacteria prick every corner invading my body- my, my, my body! It is mine! (No, he says, taken in all forms, your body is my possession, object of only my lust, he says)_

_dirt _

_disgusting _

_let me decay, _

_let me fall back into this filth and shut all light out, for good_

_The water will not clean me- the water will not clean me- I'm too full of this- this- invisible grime that surfaces in my every thought-_

_Madness, it comes as no surprise, madness- it is no comfort, it cages me- I' am (enclosed) and I hear him laugh_

_And then there is only darkness_

I run my hand over the page, I want to soak up this feeling of hers and make this disappear… I feel completely foolish. We never spoke much about her past, I thought it was better not to dive into that horror story, but now I'm reconsidering that thought… she was so broken, and I did nothing to help her. Nothing.

I turn the page; my heart feels as though someone has grabbed it and with two angry hands is squeezing it tightly, I hold my breath as I begin to read.

_(early) August_

_I will not sleep tonight. My skin is coated in cool sweat but it burns wildly and I have a burgeoning desire to lacerate it, oh yes, to tear my skin from my body and fling it out into the night's wind- to rid myself of this disgust. _

_I will not sleep tonight, moving to another state, street, house- it does nothing- daddy cannot erase my memories- he can move me, he can change my atmosphere and school but it is there- my horror- yes, it lurks eerily like phantom breath- it haunts each deserted corner, each dark space… I will not sleep tonight…because it's there… always that mattress, always that clinic waiting room…always that __pain_

_To die, what pleasure, to feel nothing, to be nothing and have no thought, no body to inhabit with invisible scars…I want that_

I don't think I can read this anymore. I'm gripping the edges of this journal and inhaling, exhaling over and over trying to stop this agony- trying to cease this dark mental affliction I have ripping through my heart! Oh God, oh God, my Miley! She wanted to die? She wanted to… I feel like vomiting… I need to stop, I need to think for a moment, just not… I just need a moment… The sun is centered in the sky now, and it's hot outside, I pick up the journal gingerly and I walk to the back screened-in porch where the shade makes me feel less like throwing myself into the lake.

I seat myself in one of the wooden chairs with a blue cushion. I let my head roll back for a moment, resting on the head of the chair and close my eyes. I need to keep reading… this is Miley's heart, this is everything I ever wanted… and now that it's sitting in my lap I feel afraid.

_(mid) August_

_2:33 PM- only the light from my lamp keeping me company_

_I slept for three hours, most I've ever gotten so far. Also a first, no nightmare, instead it was just a dream. _

_I dreamt I was in the ocean floating- there was another body with me but all I could see was long golden yellow hair and blue water shimmering from the sunlight up above. The dream seemed so long, I was drifting closer and closer to this other person, my fingers running through the long hair to see their face, but before I could unveil the mystery I woke up. _

_This is good. The dream left me feeling relaxed and curious all at the same time, as if I knew this other person, as if I felt comfortable around them… I think I'm going to sleep again, see if I can dream that dream again… _

_October _

_I felt almost normal today, what a word, normal, because who has given it a proper definition? What is our society norm? I wonder if I ever fit that specific label, maybe once… maybe once before. _

_Today I attended my new school for the first time… I have missed two months already, but I do not fear this unknown environment, my concerns are irrational (I fear the close proximity of another being beside me; I fear the suffocating crowds and the small dark spaces). _

_It was a chore to sit in the office waiting room this morning as I watched students shuffle to class. I almost left. I __hate__ waiting rooms now- they give me a heated slur of anxiety, I was trembling with memory when a young frizzy haired girl called my name…I walked into the principal's and felt faint- for a split moment I smelt the doctor's office, I shut my eyes and I saw myself there and I couldn't breathe. I wanted to run, but not home, not anywhere I just wanted to run out of that office and away, as far away as my legs could take me without collapsing. But I promised Daddy. I promised to make this work. I promised myself. And I'm failing…_

_If I were me, if I were myself from a time before I would have sought out whom I deemed to be the most popular in that school and I would have latched onto them and we would have gabbed nonsensically about unimportant gibberish with no poetic or emotional substance- I would demanded attention from those people and everyone else around me. I would have worn a fitted outfit, something to attract, I would have painted my face to allure these people, to get them to notice me… I felt almost normal today because when I walked into that building a piece of that old me sprung to life, enjoying the thrill of people asking, asking, asking about me, me, ME! They wanted to know, they inquired merrily as they spat question after question-_

_But as quickly as that part of me came to life it died the same moment students crowded my desk in vain hope to catch a glimpse of a better more fast paced world I had once belonged to, given my heart to… I hate myself today. I hate all parts of my personality that once was and now remains. I hate… I hate…_

_(mid) October_

_English class is a beautiful outlet. Mr. Gunter is a lovely man and he talks with me through my fake journal entries I write for his class… this is my only true journal. I could never give this to him or anyone else. It is mine, something I can have complete control over, these are my thoughts written in tangible form so I may see them and almost feel them with my fingers as I run my hands over these pages time and time again._

_But English is good, we read novels rich with literary flavor and I savor each bite I take out of those precious novels- where I may completely let go of myself and all that is around me… but English is also unnerving… there is a girl there who stares at me. I've heard numerous rumors about her over the day especially after lunch… but I'm not going to pay attention, people used to talk about me too._

_(late) October_

_6:45 PM- it's raining tonight_

_She drove me home yesterday. Daddy wasn't happy about it- he doesn't like me going anywhere with people he doesn't know. Understandable. _

_He didn't argue with me after she dropped me off, Daddy simply wrapped his arm around me, hugging me and I smelt the dirt on his plaid shirt, letting me know he was out in the garden again… the smell was soothing. _

_But that girl, Lillian, I can't quite pin her down. The student body seems to have a well established view of her- telling me (once they noticed her and I conversing in the library yesterday) that she was bad. Lillian Truscott is not to be trusted or bothered- she is insufferable, they say, she is unruly- a scoundrel and a rebel… and a lesbian. _

_She seems perfectly aloof or oblivious of this attention she receives- she brushes the chatter off with a flick of her wrist- keeping close contact to a boy with messy brown hair (his name escapes me now). _

_I'm utterly baffled at this- how could the students be so unfeeling? This girl drove me- a complete stranger- home from school, she offered me her table at lunch, and she rescued me my first day in English from the question overload… do they misread her that badly? Or am I simply a distraction to her, a new toy to play with then leave when she becomes bored or rather, discovers my secrets. _

_I'm perplexed by her and I wish I would leave this curiosity alone to die off. I don't need any friends; I don't need anyone to unravel these skeletons that I've just locked away… But why does she look at me? I must know! Why does she insert herself into my life, into my daily routine? Her persistence is relentless, possibly obnoxious… possibly charming…I'm indecisive, which is something I've never been. I used to know exactly what I wanted, I used to target my goal and aggressively throw myself at it until I achieved it with flying colors and impeccable grace. _

_And now? Now the question that has and will forever haunt me- who am I now?_

_(early) November_

_5:04 AM- sun is coming up, sky is pink_

_I cannot bring myself to crawl back into bed. I've made coffee and now I'm out on the back deck sipping it, watching the sun and writing. The deck chairs are surprisingly comfortable, although chilled- the sun having not fully risen. _

_I hear Daddy's loud work boots clunking across the hardwood from inside the house. He's making breakfast, I think. I don't think I can eat today; food never stays where it should most days and during lunch I have to sneak away to the bathroom because my stomach suddenly remembers what my mind tries to forget…_

_I had the nightmare again last night. _

_I hate this, I feel like a child, hiding under the covers from the shadowy figure peering from behind the door- waiting for my weakest moment and then the monster will pounce-will grab me and hold me down roughly and I will suffocate under his weight… But the nightmare keeps changing- sometimes I'm alone in that room, naked, and I can hear the monster coming up the stairs- feet pounding rapidly like my heart. Other times he's there with me holding me down. _

_It always shocks me, at night when those dark moments arise from my unconscious state, I can never become numb to that night- no matter how hard I try to push it (forcefully with two angry hands and a wild strength) away._

_But some nights are good. Sometimes I dream of the ocean and a golden yellow haired girl, she and I lay on the seashore, or under the water. Her face is never clear, always blurred to me. Those nights are welcomed warmly and I treasure the image all through my morning and all through my day- I wish she was real, I wish she would comfort me in waking hours as well as sleeping… Often, when I wake from the nightmare I will yearn for her, my body longs for her, the girl I never knew. I often desire the warmth from that ocean dream sun and the presence of another warm body there, watching over me. _

_It's all nonsense, for who could possibly look past my sins? I have become the beast from my favorite childhood fairytale… (and who could ever love such a thing?)_

I stop reading, feeling another crashing wave of despair come over me. It's silly but the thought of Miley being insecure never once crossed my mind. I thought of her as many things (beautiful, talented, intelligent, frustrating, sexy, lost, sad) but never insecure over whether or not she could be loved, be accepted by another person. I have always loved her. I have always accepted her.

_(mid) November_

_12:40 PM- sitting in living room with unfinished homework assignments scattered_

_It's Sunday so Jackson is calling from Becky's house. Daddy is in the kitchen talking softly into the phone, so I know they're discussing me. I almost want to pick up the phone sitting there on the coffee table, but I won't. It's a completely ludicrous concept but I fear they may be saying things I would never want to know, things about my lack of progress or worse. _

_Dillon called yesterday. He seemed odd, not his usual cooled persona, instead there were long pauses and stuttered responses on his end. I hate how things have turned for the worse between us. Dillon is my only safe outlet to my old world of dance, music, and stage, and yet he refuses to give me any kind of information about the girls and upcoming productions. It's so infuriating! I'm trying my best to put all of this behind me, forget and move onward towards something meaningful in my life, but every time I make improvements there's Daddy or Jackson, or Dillon reminding me with a look, or tone of voice, and with that they drag me forcefully back down to self loathing. _

…_Which is why I've grown so fond of her. Lilly regards me without chains to past mistakes; Lilly takes me fully and never asks for explanations- she is content with my simple answers and moves on, not looking back. She breezes into my day like a perfect autumn wind- nipping playfully at my nose, making me feel brand new and perfect with myself alone- no need to pretty my face, no need to force conversation. _

_She is a fluid motion, that Lilly, she is a constant wavelength soaring high and soaring far making me catch my breath in my chest because she can be so much at once, so much and it's a beautiful kind of emotion clogging my throat and swelling my heart. _

_I feel, sometimes, that there is more I want from her, more then just where we are in terms of companionship. _

_(mid) November/pt. 2_

_Lilly bore her heart to me last week in the comforts of her bedroom. I never knew she suffered a great loss. It seems the students have missed that issue of gossip in Lilly's life. They prey on her cold exterior, never looking deeper into the gentle warmth that is her true self. She spoke to me of her brother with such tender love that only a beloved sister could achieve. _

_I'm broken over her sadness. And yet, I'm overflowing with this nameless emotion. Lilly opened herself completely, letting me peer inside of her- she did this not knowing me, she did this trusting me. Privileged, I feel, privileged to be a keeper of her world. _

_And now, there is nervousness clouding me, because I know she's wanting more from me, wanting me to unravel myself for her and I can't. My insides are not as warm and beautiful as hers. _

_(late) November/pt. 3_

_6:50 PM- outside on the back porch steps_

_I was raped. _

_I cannot look away I cannot pretend it is not there glaring boldly at me. It happened; it's written all over my skin and gnawing at the inside of my heart. But I acknowledge it now. _

_Today I let the floodgates open and poured my shame, my humiliation out to her and she clung to me and kissed my hair like a mother would. I become vulnerable, letting my rough, jagged edges show and she smoothed them over benevolently- not for a moment did she regard me with judgment, nor did she recoil her hands in disgust. She was perfect. _

_I left her house hours ago and when I reached home I raced back to the forest behind the house, into the woods where I felt the embrace of nature. And there, alone, amongst the dirt and the rocks I cried out- my voice releasing the tension it has been trying to keep caged for so long. I felt empowered as I ripped the sky with my anguished cries. I felt bigger then myself for a moment, there in the woods. _

_I'm out of breath now as I write furiously, my hand barely keeping up with my racing thoughts._

_I can't stop thinking about her. She plagues my thoughts morning and night. Especially now that we've shared our past, I feel so good about her- she knows me, she knows me! I won't have to dwindle away in deep stricken paranoia, wondering if she'll find out and hate me because she knows! She knows and never turned me away! _

_It's like surfacing out of the water- like taking my very first true deep inhale of oxygen, and my lungs are full and my body rejoices in relinquishing these secrets, these secrets that have eaten me from the inside out for so long. _

_Lilly…Lilly…I cannot stop thinking of her. I cannot stop smiling when I do as well… Lilly…Lilly…I love saying her name, I love writing her name. I love-_

I squint my eyes, but it doesn't work, it looks like Miley has scratched the last of her entry out with her pen. This is confusing, but I let that feeling slip away and a new flooding of happiness over take me. She thought about me like I thought about her- the idea drives me crazy with tingly sensations rupturing inside my stomach.

_(mid) December_

_7:09 PM- sitting by the window, snowing today_

_These last few weeks I've felt like the Tectonic Plates- breaking away from the old and shifting into some new land, completely foreign to me… I think it started when Lilly wore that outfit in the beginning of the month (she looked so different and yet very much the same)… then again, now reflecting, I believe this change has been brewing for quite some time. _

_Maybe it started when Lilly was teaching me to play the electric guitar- her breath hot up against my neck felt erotic in a peculiar way that made me shiver. Or possibly it was when Lilly took me to Sarah's fundraiser and she wore that black dress- it tugged on all parts of her body I never paid much mind to until that night when they were highlighted- the curves of her hips made me stop. _

_I've felt so chaotic these past few weeks- uncertain and embarrassed I can't bring myself to look at Lilly straight in the eyes. What's worse is that she appears so oblivious to my discontent. I want her reassurance that it's nothing, that we are simply very good friends and my feelings are that of plutonic love. _

_But, instead, she… she __teases__ me with those long stares, and lingering hands on my hands, she is very confusing to me. But I can't lose her. I couldn't bare the thought of not being with her, speaking with her. She is a dominating force that tackles me and, whirls me like a tornado 'round and 'round. I love the way I feel around her and I love the way she gives me her full undivided attention as if I'm someone special, someone who deserves that attention. _

… _I have been changing, and I feel it happening, like the snow now falling outside my window lighting up the black night, dazzling it, painting it a vibrant white- the contrast makes me smile. _

_I've also been studying up on new things. Ever since Dillon told me about his boyfriend I have become interested in human sexuality. I made Lilly tell me all about her experiences one day out at the park (I consider it our park these days). I think I know where she stands on the views of sexuality and attraction- she is rooted in women and their appeal to her, she is centered in that exact definition of what a lesbian is- the attraction of women and nothing else. _

_However, I've established a different view point on it. To me, sexuality is a current, a fluid movement that never ends or begins… it simply stretches on and on into forever… I believe it stems from the personality. I like to think that we fall in love with someone because of who they are inside and how they make us feel- not because they are male or female. _

_With Lilly I feel a strong connection that I've never experienced before- it wraps me in and holds onto me securely and I don't want that embrace to ever fade. But I wonder can this become stronger? Can it transform into something less akin to friendship and more of something else entirely? Then again what if I'm wrong, what if these wild emotions of mine get too heavy and our friendship crashes never to evolve. I can't help but wonder what she's thinking… what does she feel about me and us and what could be. _

_Then again (as always the super ego stalks me and finds me to break the id's happiness) I'm terrified. I'd almost rather stay in this friendship then push it and have it crumble beneath me. I'd rather have this here then nothing at all. _

_Lillian Truscott will be the absolute death of me, I know it._

_I've had the poem from Mr. Gunter's class trapped in my brain for a while… it makes me remember those dreams of the ocean and the girl._

"_The tide rises, the tide falls,  
The twilight darkens, the curlew calls;  
Along the sea-sands damp and brown  
The traveler hastens toward the town,  
And the tide rises, the tide falls.  
Darkness settles on roofs and walls,  
But the sea, the sea in darkness calls;  
The little waves, with their soft, white hands  
Efface the footprints in the sands,  
And the tide rises, the tide falls.  
The morning breaks; the steeds in their stalls  
Stamp and neigh, as the hostler calls;  
The day returns, but nevermore  
Returns the traveler to the shore.  
And the tide rises, the tide falls._"

I laugh, tracing my name with my index finger. She has the most beautiful handwriting and the way she writes my name makes me weak- just the knowledge that I have dominated a good portion of her journal and therefore her life makes me quiver with happiness.

_(late) December_

_2:33 PM- couldn't sleep_

_Lilly kissed me yesterday in her bedroom. I can't stop saying that, thinking that, picturing that. _

_It was so unexpected and my heart leaped out of my chest the second her lips touched mine. The fire! Oh the fire I felt boiling madly under my flesh drove me into shock. I feel the fool now, hours later, having run from her in fear, my feet stumbling down her long staircase and the roof of my mouth dry as ever._

_God, the things she does to me. _

_But I can't let myself do this. I can't fall into her the way I so desperately want to, I must stay away and remember that it could never work. She is so wonderful and I could never be enough for her. I' am haunted and damaged in all ways and it would never be good enough, my heart could never be worthy enough and it pierces me to see her, kills me to watch her sit- arms crossed, jaw tight in class, knowing that I made her feel so angry, so confused over our last encounter. _

_I should explain to her my anxiety. I should open my mouth and reassure her that it has nothing to do with what she believes, it has nothing to do with us being two young women- it is my past, it is the old parts of myself resurfacing. I can't let her see who I was before all this…_

_But I can't stand to be away from her._

_(mid) January_

_5:30 PM- at the piano_

_I've had Mozart's Canon in D Major playing in my head all day. I rushed home today to get it out of my system, pulling out dusty sheet music from the piano bench and running my fingers over the beloved keys that I have neglected for so long. Being with Lilly makes me feel light, just like the music- fingers dancing over keys playfully. _

_We've been dating for three weeks and it's beautiful. I love when she visits me late in the afternoons and lays with me on my bed, the sun setting through my window and the two of us intertwined together. She always smells good- I can never resist the urge to bury my nose into her hair or neck and inhale sharply. _

_Her presences relaxes me, the rising and falling of her chest under my head when we lay together gives me all the reassurance I need to know that she wants me. The way her hands know me, the way they travel up and down my spine or cheek- it melts me, it makes a slow starting sizzle grow inside my chest. _

… _And when we kiss I'm dissolving, that's what it feels like, my layers of shame peel from me and I'm just dissolving like cream inside hot coffee. She knows where to touch me, her fingers I adore the most- they tickle me in ways I'll never know how to rightfully express. And when she uses that power, the power of her hands, I become nothing more then her doll, I become nothing more then melted putty in her palms. I could only wish that I have the same effect on her. _

I shake my head unhappily, looking away from the journal and out to the lake and sky- how could she not see how much I loved her back then? How could she not feel the way my heart would hammer in my chest, or the way my eyes were always on her when she walked into a room? How could she not know? How could she not see then and now in this time frame that I _burn_ for her. How could she not know that I'm completely devoted, that I would not dare turn my cheek, turn her down? I love her, it's an endless love, it is boundless in mercy and adoration- I'm hers, always have and always will…

_(late) February _

_afternoon, time unknown, laying in Lilly's bed_

_She isn't with me now. Her mother called and she's talking with her in the living room downstairs. Daddy and I have been chewing over the idea of visiting LA for the summer. Jackson wants to see us, but has a summer class so we would have to fly to him. I'm up for the travel- my heart has yearned for my old ballet class now that I have started practicing again. _

_I want Lilly to come with me. I could see her there, under that hot sun bathing in the city life, immersing herself in the thick liberal culture. I think she would enjoy it. And besides, I want her to know me more, I want to share a world with her I've never wanted anyone else to know- I want to take her to see a ballet and I want her to take in my passion for the dance, for the music that enriches my soul and fills my heart with incandescent joy. She's the only person I would ever want to share that with. She makes me so happy. And for that, I've fallen in love with her, completely, honestly, devotedly. _

…_But Daddy in uncertain, he doesn't want me getting in too fast, getting my head caught under the rising water again- but he doesn't realize that if the water is Lilly I want to drown, I want to be completely under and never surface. _

_He likes Lilly, he told me so at Christmas when she came to the house and when she came to dinner the night I told him about us. But he's scared. And I try reassuring him, because I think this will be a good thing. I suppose only time will tell._

_(mid) March_

_5:12 PM- on floor rug_

_I have the worst headache today, so I have my ocean waves recording on. It's an old cassette tape that I made with my mother when I was four. If I listen closely enough I can hear my mother's voice in the background- talking with a younger version of myself about seashells and starfish. _

_-there, her laugh, it trickles in through the speakers and makes me feel very heavy. It was a "Mommy and Me" day at the beach. The last day we'd spend together before she died… just us girls. _

_I have a picture of us, taken by a tourist, on that day. My mother looks beautiful- wearing a thin white dress over her pink bathing suit and a big floppy sun hat with pink and brown stripes. I'm in my orange bathing suit sitting with her, our cheeks pressed together and mouths open in wide smiles- we're covered in wet sand and I'm holding a green bucket. I love that picture, but it pierces my heart in the worst way so I keep it tucked away in a brown box under my bed along with this tape and various other belongings of hers. _

_Except, oddly, I crave her this moment, so the box is opened and lying on the floor with me and I'm staring down at that picture as I write. I crave her because I never knew her. I don't know her favorite color, or favorite song, or if she even enjoyed ballet the way I do. She was taken from me in one of the most unjust ways… and I miss what I never truly had. _

_I have small memories, like the beach, of her- small fragments of days we spent together. They are simple days, like going to the grocery store, I recall sitting in the back seat secured in my car seat as she drove singing along side the radio. Sometimes I dream of her and when I wake I don't know if those were real memories or ones my mind wishes I had. _

_But I know one thing that's concreted in my heart- she was a perfect mother. I know this because everyone has stories of her- family, friends… people she knew and loved, they tell me how much she cared, how much she loved me and Jackson and how she tried to fight, fight for her life so she could stay with us. Those stories always break me; they make me crumble into pieces… because it makes me wonder, just for a moment, about the baby… about the baby I never truly wanted and could never truly keep. _

_I wonder sometimes- would I have been a good mother to that child? What would they have looked like? What would they have been passionate about? I regret it and then I don't… I always come back to the pro and con list, and the cons weight out the pros every time- but I still wonder, I still mourn. _

_Often, when I'm out walking and I see children who would be the same age as my child I can't help but stare at them- look at their round faces and large eyes and remember. Who are you, faceless, nameless child that I never held? Who are you and where have you gone? The science of it all finds me and I try to think logically- I remind myself that it was not a true being at the time of it's departure. It was a small alien speck that invaded my body and at the time I was frantic- I wanted you gone, baby, I wanted you out and away. _

_But then, when the science fades from me, and when I'm looking at the grass or the sky, I want to know where you've gone? You, ghostly child, are you hiding in the tree tops or are you scattered amongst the soil?_

_(Lilly is scientific when it comes to this issue, she is all logic and reason… and yet I waver over all ideas. I'm trapped into a question mark.)_

I close the journal and watch the sun in the sky. I feel like reaching out to Miley- stretching my arms across this rugged land to find her and hold her, pull her body to mine in desperate need to fill these holes inside her.

**XxXxXxXxXxX**

**Author's Note-** I'm stopping there, need to re-write my outline (yet again) for the story. I'm probably going to have more journal entries later, so if you hated this chapter you're probably going to hate the next one too. Leave your thoughts

_**scullymulder-**_ (I saved your review for last, hope you don't mind) I'm always overjoyed to see readers connect on emotional levels with the characters I write. I'm really glad I could write a story that made you feel something, made you want to read this and want to love these fictional people. And I'm glad you enjoy the fact that pretty much every character is imperfect, because that was the basis of this entire story. It was my inspiration- I remember back in 2007 when I first started brainstorming; my very first note was that I wanted to create a story full of heavily emotionally damaged people and from that came all of this. Your review has touched me and I will surely never forget it.

I'm pretty sure you don't need a character analysis of Miley now considering the content of this chapter but I'll write one just in case you still care:

I usually think of colors that correspond with my main characters when I'm first drafting plotlines and character sketches.

Lilly I made red- she feels intensely and passionately, her emotions are like bursts of fire and she changes her mind like a flickering flame.

Miley, however, I made blue- she feels things deeply and strongly (her emotions are that of the ocean- wide and full of depth), and she often becomes overly absorbed in her thoughts.

Another aspect of Miley I created for her was the physiological battle she constantly faces- this battle erupts after her rape where she is caught between two different ideas of herself. Miley tries to distance herself from what she once was (a spoiled ballerina diva) because she feels that side of herself to be "bad" she feels those personality qualities are what lead up to her rape (they aren't of course, because the rapist is the bad one here not her, but she's too caught up in self loathing to realize this). So Miley tries to "create" another personality- the opposite of what she once was (shy, bookish, humble). This of course comes undone, when she takes Lilly to LA for the summer- where Miley becomes confused over who she really is- that's why I gave the hint of _Cognitive Dissonance_ because it's a psychology term used to describe someone who faces entrapment over who they are and who they want to be- the struggle to go from real self to ideal self. I _really _hope that made sense. I'm a bit of a psych nerd, sorry, but if you are anyone else have any cool psych information feel free to share, I love knowledge.

This is a LOT longer then it should be, so I'm going to stop before I ramble on and on and on… (Miley's character fascinates me to no end I could talk about it all day).


	54. This Was Always Hers

**Author's Note- **To everyone who reviewed, who took the time to write me words of encouragement and inspiration or shared personal stories with me; you have my deepest love and appreciation.

_**MayRey-**_ Your English grammar is perfectly fine, don't worry about it I understood everything you meant perfectly and I'm eternally grateful that you took the time to review.

_**J.S. Jamesbrooke-**_ Cool beans, I got a new reviewer! Thanks so much for letting me hear your thoughts, I always get a little giddy when I see new faces (or rather new usernames). I too must re-read most of my story before I update because sometimes I forget a LOT of things that need to be addressed or brought back into the story. Anyway, thanks so much for your review.

_**The Rising Tide-**_ Oh my God thanks so much! You addressed something I was very, _very_ worried about- making sure Miley and Lilly sounded different. I was really on edge about that after I sent out the last chapter. I wanted Miley to have her own voice in this Lilly dominated story, but I wasn't sure if I conveyed her well enough- I kept thinking _"What if readers get confused?"_ However, I did want Lilly and Miley to be somewhat similar in order show their emotional connection- which is why I had Miley write a few similar things Lilly thought about long ago in past chapters. But mainly I wanted difference because they are two separate people and you put my worries to rest completely, I can now metaphorically wipe the sweat from my brow. You read my Miley analysis? _Sweet_, I was hoping others would see it and take a peek because it was hard to write, it's easier for me to say and I bet it would be easier to understand if I were to meet all you guys and verbally explain it. I really love hearing from you, your reviews never disappoint, and always hit on issue that I want readers to see.

_**Kurrent- **_Hmmm… how to comment back, seriously, how could I possibly top your own thoughts of this story? Not possible, I say, but I will try. I'm always curious to hear your own self evaluation of characters, plot twists and such. You are always there, it feels like you stepped inside my head- pulled back all my thoughts and plastered them there for me to see. You are so wonderful to me, your words are so remarkable, and I'm lucky that you would take the time to write to me. Thank-you.

_**J.h.M-**_ Hi back. I really love reading that I can make people relate to the characters I write, it's so fulfilling to me. Your review was so nice and I took so much pleasure in reading it and knowing that you felt compelled to review after experiencing all the chapters, it's so great to hear that because I never expect people to write things back to me, and it's always a surprise and it's very humbling.

_**EterniteProfonde-**_ Wow. Just wow. Your review was much appreciated. I'm happy to have you as a new reader and I'm very honored that you decided to comment on my little story. I love it (to death) when readers give their own character analysis- your short one of Lilly at the bottom was so great and I enjoyed it, like crazy. The bathtub part that you commented on had me nodding my head like crazy, because yes! It's such a big part of the story- everything came from that concept, I started the story with Lilly there. And whenever I feel like being nostalgic or Lilly is going through a hard time I put her back there as a means for her to reconnect with herself and reevaluate what is and is not important. Also, I wanted to touch on another thing you brought up, my original characters- I just wanted to, like, hug you for what you wrote. I always think readers won't like my made up people and you made me feel so much better about it. Anyway, thanks again for the outstanding review and thoughts you left.

_**LuV34U1234**__**-**_ I really don't know how any writer could leave Oliver out of the story, it baffles me a little, because to me he is so important- he and Lilly have so much history and I always feel compelled to establish that and explore it, so thanks for that bit you wrote. Aww, you want to put my story in tangible book form? My heart skipped when I read that. I was like, "_really?!_" sorry it made me giddy. Oh and the part you spoke of about the song? I totally get you. Thanks for reviewing!

_**Squire Conrad**__**-**_ *Bows* Why thank-you, I'm quite pleased I got more then 10 reviews as well (though in the beginning drafts of this story I was convinced everyone would hate it and I'd only get a few reviews and then feel forced to give up on it, so this is kind of all extremely shocking to me). Please, all Disney related things to me are gay; I practically search for hidden meaning. And that last chapter may have been my favorite to write (I keep changing my mind) because Miley's mind is crazy and I love writing crazy. In the beginning I was going to write this whole story through Miley's eyes but I backed out because it just wouldn't have worked out, so these few chapters are my "Miley voice" outlet. I love hearing from you!

_**scullymulder**__**-**_ So basically my reaction to your comment went something like this: _thud_, that's right I fell over. It's like… I don't even know where to begin commenting on your comment… I'm just sitting here with nothing but- "_OMG I love this person!"_ Running through my head (yes, very school girl of me, for my lack of impressive diction I do apologize). But the main thing I suppose I want to brush over is that you're the first person to say anything about my title and you got it dead on. You put it so very eloquently and I found myself smiling a ridiculous smile for days. And I really could care less how long it takes you to digest my chapters if I get such grand reviews from you (not that I'm saying you must always do that or ever do it again, it's just I really adore your thoughts/ramblings whatever you call them.) Oh and I'm all about color, I'm a very visual person so color is of prime importance to me as well as plots and outlines. I'm very much a planner when it comes to anything, especially stories. I will not post a story until I have it all briefly sketched out, it changes a lot but I rarely stray from my original ideas (the skeleton of the story). Thank-you for being awesome and reviewing.

_**Gentry**__**-**_ Majoring in Psychology? Oh I bow to you! I could never do that, though I love reading about it. The human mind is altogether baffling and absolutely fascinating to me. For me, it's all about English, so that's my major. And it's not weird at all that you're interested in working with someone who has DID, one day I'm sure I'll read up on one of your award winning reports on that person. Nature vs. Nurture, eh? I'm convinced both contribute to one's personality. I don't believe one over the other, I think they are primarily equal- they both are the causes of who we are as people. However, if you are asking me to decide, if I had to pick one… then it would be nature. I think our genetics are more powerful- but that's only if I _had_ to pick a side. Cool question, what do you think?

**XxXxXxXxXxX**

"_This part was for her_

_Does she remember?" _---Greg Laswell, _Comes and Goes (In Waves)_

**XxXxXxXxXxX**

The journal is lying open on the table- the wind wafting through the open kitchen windows make the pages flicker, it reminds me of rustling leaves. I'm sipping coffee at the counter watching this and the lake in the distance.

Yo-Yo Ma's adaptation of Bach's _Unaccompanied Cello Suite Number 1 in G Major _is playing somewhere far off in the bedroom. I put it on earlier because I remember once in Miley's room she had it playing back before we became lovers, before we knew anything about each other and I was simply a study-buddy of hers on Friday nights.

I remember her saying something about it… something like… _"It makes me crazy, Bach's music, it makes me feel like I'm out in an open meadow with only blue sky and green grass…"_

I take another large gulp of my hot coffee and it burns the roof of my mouth and I wince slightly- but it burns so good, the sting only makes me want more of this overly sugared and creamed drink. I'm thinking about my play again… I feel the need to tear it to shreds and start all over, because now it doesn't feel right at all. I want to rewrite everything and create something more then what I have, more so that people will _feel_ something when they see my story played out for them.

It's not good enough, and I don't when it ever will be good enough. Damn it. I set the coffee mug down grip the edges of the counter letting it support all my weight. I lean into it and sigh heavily, shaking my head from side to side. (I want Miley to read my play).

…My eyes drift to the journal, the pages having stopped flickering in the dying wind and now lay dead, waiting… waiting with words- they scream to me, they scream.

_(late) April _

_11:30 AM- watching the rain fall softly_

_I have my favorite tape playing today. The Essential Yo-Yo Ma is blaring from the speakers playing through my two favorite tracks- twelve and thirteen. The music touches me, into the very core of my being it pierces and I can barely keep myself from weeping uncontrollably. _

_I'm glad Daddy isn't home today so I can sit in the living room now and listen without him interrupting or asking politely to turn the volume down. He doesn't understand that Yo-Yo Ma needs to be loud, the music needs to tower above all other things- above my thoughts, above this moment and ascend into the heavens. I only wish Lilly was here to share this experience with me. I would love to see her reaction to the music- she is the most readable person to me when music is on. Her face is like a sheet of music, the notes displayed across the curve of her lips, the length of her eyelashes, and the lines above her brow. When music erupts into the silence Lilly opens herself to me, she expresses everything in her heart through her face and I love being able to look at her and know that we are sharing the same emotion at the same time. _

_She is also the perfect person to listen along side because she does not speak. I have tried to sit with others and listen to such strong classical music but they feel the need to speak during the most crucial points in the song- the vibrant climax, or the soft whisper of a cello or violin. And I become annoyed with them, my religious-like love for the song breaks in half and I'm bitter towards them for slicing the beauty. But Lilly…(God I love writing her name, it's the most beautiful word in the dictionary) Lilly is like a mouse, quiet and ever so still, her body bends only to the movement of the song. Her breath catches in her chest just like mine at the right parts and she smiles evenly just like I do when the song concludes. _

_She is vulnerable through music, she is all soft edges and serious smiles. Sometimes, when we listen together, I watch her, I'm drawn in by her, so when she closes her eyes at her favorite part (lips slightly parted, as if tasting the music) I look at her. Lilly is better with showing then telling when it comes to her feelings. _

_She shows me the hurt inside her from the loss of her brother when we bask in the cello solo, I see it there on her face. I see the quick slice of pain slash across her face when she thinks of Nate. She has a face, a smile, and pair of sad eyes saved just for him- when he clouds her thoughts, I can tell. Lilly shows me the frustration of her parents when we lay listening to the violins hum, I see the anger grip and tighten at her jaw. I see the loneliness and the sorrow of an empty house fog her blue orbs and I want to steal that martyrdom and banish it from her and let her forever stay in joy…_

_I see good things in her face with music as well. I see the love for Oliver overflow in her open mouth smile. I see the humor he brings her from the creases around her eyes when she laughs. He is her rock and I accept that (though my jealous heart wishes to rebel such a thing). _

_But there are other jubilant looks of hers… and they are more difficult to decipher their exact cause. With her eyes closed, and the music holding us in its climax, I listen closely for that sigh she makes deep in her throat- that gentle hum of her breath slowly easing its way from her lips and this look of complete and definite unyielding joy spreads warmly across her beautiful features. I treasure that look, though its cause unknown, I treasure it. _

_(late) April/pt. 2_

_5:54PM- lying on my bed_

_She said yes! She said yes to my offer! Oh, LA with Lilly in the summer will be divine. I've already started book marking places we should visit and Jackson and Becky are so excited to meet her. I'm bubbling over with anticipation! How ludicrous, the way I'm smiling right now, how mad, the way my heart is overflowing- feels like it will soon burst into a thousand pieces! _

_Is that possible? To explode from happiness? If so, I go willingly, I go without a scream or tear! _

_Oh Lilly! Oh __my__ Lilly! She is all things lovely and beautiful. _

I place the journal down for a moment, look to the window, and fiddle with the napkin resting under my coffee mug. Reading this… it's like reading a story that you already know the ending of. So reading a happy part is depressing because you already know it doesn't end well. Reading her words here, so laid out and joyful for what is to come for her in that time period makes me sad, but not just sad, I feel… remorseful. I know the ending, and it is not good. I wish I could go back to the day at the beach where she and I lazed about getting sunburned and building sandcastles. That day has been imprinted in my mind, instilled to demolish all the bad in my life. But, after LA after our perfect summer there is only tragedy. There is only this absence of her, this outline carved into my heart that only she can fill.

I shudder, as the wind picks up and breathes down my neck coolly. I shudder and then focus myself to her words yet again.

_May _

_3:23 PM- kitchen table, tulips are in full bloom_

_Graduation has come and now long gone and I feel no different then before. Yes, there is a small sense of satisfaction in completing something and completing it well. However, high school never meant much to me; it was simply something to finish in order to obtain my dream, my acceptance into the finest ballet program. High school was simply a string of tests and papers to hand in and pass. It never meant anything. I wish it did, I wish I could celebrate like the rest of my classmates. _

_But it isn't in me to do so. My eyes are focused on my future, I feel that pull again. I feel that growing fire in my gut that pushes me to be more. I want things now. I want to be the best again, and it's frightening to me, a little, to feel this way again so strongly. It's like I'm shaking hands with my past self and she is smiling so convincingly, coxing me into following her- and I do, and I don't. Some days I'm walking so close to her, almost beside her but not quite. Other days I'm far behind, barely moving, watching her run into the horizon. _

_Sometimes, I want to tell Lilly these things. Lay my thoughts out to her, but I'm afraid that I might sound mad. _

_("Yes, Lilly, I'm having visions of my past self; we are competing against one another. I'm trying to hold myself to this time, this side, but she pushes me into something darker, something so selfish and cruel… I was terrible before, Lilly, I wanted everything, I wanted fame, I wanted to dance and be noticed and loved by everyone…" Yes, that would go over well.)_

_I just can't talk to her about it. Lilly, though I know she'd roll her eyes at me, is very humble. She is so good and modest. When I complement her writing, she blushes so deeply and turns me away. She clears her thought and shrugs off my praises in embarrassment. She wants to fix things, fix people to become better versions of themselves. I know this because she does so with me every day. _

_How could I possibly explain to her that I'm so very… self centered? _

_June_

_11:15 PM- Becky's spare bedroom_

_Things are moving so smoothly it's almost scary. Jackson is quite taken with Lilly, he pulled me aside yesterday afternoon and told me so. He joked that it's too bad we're together otherwise he would have made a move. It was only a joke, but my insides flared at the very thought. I've never known jealously like this, however it soon passed when Jackson said in all seriousness that he was happy for me. _

_Becky is in love with Lilly as well, the two have truly hit it off. Becky finds Lilly's sharp wit and sarcastic demeanor endearing and laughable. She gave me a wink one morning after Lilly left the kitchen, commenting, "Good choice." _

_It's odd the way everyone has reacted to her but I'm enjoying it more and more each day. The only obstacle are my old friends…Adrianna is not pleased (though I can't quite remember a time when she was about anything). _

_Adrianna is… very particular about things. She simply requires the absolute best from everyone at all times, it's one of the reasons we become (somewhat) friends- she pushed me harder then anyone else. She was and still is my strongest critic. She dominated my entire life before and I suppose I've grown used to Lilly's openness and kind comments, that hearing Adrianna's sharp tone threw me somewhat. _

_I just don't understand why Adrianna is so displeased by Lilly. Lilly is in no way a threat and all Adrianna cares for is ballet, Lilly has no interest in suddenly becoming a performer. Lilly's passions are words and theater. It baffles me (also angers me) the way Adrianna dismissed Lilly with such cold words. It's silly of me to assume Adrianna has changed at all. It's also silly of me to assume we could all be friends again. And I won't choose, if that is what Adrianna is shooting for, I will not choose between Lilly and this ballet life- because there is nothing to choose, no decision to be contemplated. _

_It's so easy. _

_It's Lilly. _

No happy ending… No happy ending. My chest tightens at this. She didn't choose me. So what happened? She picked the drugs, she picked to fuck Adrianna, or did Adrianna fuck her? I don't know. Ignorance is bliss, isn't it? I can't say. I play with the edge of next page in the journal; its top corner is folded over, marking it. I inhale and prepare myself.

_(late) June/pt. 2_

_12:46PM- Becky's spare bedroom, Lilly sleeping soundly in bed_

_I'm writing at the desk by the small study lamp's light. I can hear Lilly's soft breathing. She's curled inward, one leg sneaking its way out from the covers, her arms wrapped securely around her pillow. Her long blonde hair lights up the dark bed sheets, it's curly from sleeping and wild looking. _

_Lilly is very attractive. _

_There, that wasn't so hard to write._

_She is very, __very__ attractive. _

_God._

_Sometimes I just look at her. I love to look at her. She's so captivating in every way- her movements are slow and relaxed, she walks with this ease, this almost tangible conformability that radiates long sunny rays from her skin-_

_Oh her skin- like touching the softest, smoothest surface known to mankind, she has this perfect body temperature, always warm and inviting- so when she wraps herself around me it's like stepping into this toasty cocoon that sends violent shivers down my spine. _

_This is madness, surely. _

_But I can't stop thinking about her… differently then before. _

_Yes, she is beautiful, of course I think so, I'm her girlfriend, she's always been pretty, always been appealing physically… but it's different now. _

_When we kiss there is this heat that rises up from me, this hot sizzle of… of desire that pools into my stomach and racks all over my body, it spreads all over and I can't… think or (God) barely breathe._

_And she doesn't notice. _

_Sweet, dear, Lilly! She doesn't even notice!_

_After we kiss or touch she simply smiles pleasantly then returns her attention to whatever she was previously working on. And I'm left feeling flustered and dry mouthed and… and weak all over! This is madness! My body is not my own- it moves and speaks on its own accord. I've never…never felt this way before. So new and rich it is, and yet it bothers me, I'm perplexed by these feelings that seem to have sprung up overnight. _

_Why does she have to be so beautiful? _

_Why does she tempt me with those lips, or those eyes! Her eyes! Like blue diamonds! They shimmer in the light, they darken when we kiss, turn to deep ocean like colors, moving me with their depth and intensity._

_I feel very unstable. _

_(late) June/pt. 3_

_7:34PM- Becky's kitchen table _

_I met Lauren today. That sting of jealousy flushed my entire body when she looked at Lilly the way she did- as if she owed Lilly in some way. _

_This Lauren creature- she is beauty. And I can see her with Lilly, I can see them together, I can see why Lilly loved her. Lauren is experienced and confident. When she walked across that stage it was done with flare- her movements graced with a catlike coyness. When her eyes met mine I shuddered slightly- her white deadly smile bearing falseness and her eyes, they analyzed me with a peculiar sharpness._

_I do not like this Lauren. She reeks of trouble. I do not like her because she has Lilly, I can see it, she has Lilly dangling on her pinkie (Lauren the puppet master). But I dislike her mostly because she knows Lilly differently then I do. She has given Lilly pleasures that I have yet to fulfill or explore, she has taken Lilly and this notion infuriates me beyond anything I have ever known. I have so much anger towards Lauren. She dismissed Lilly years ago, without care or a second glance- how is such a thing possible? How can anyone leave Lilly? It is baffling to me._

_But, sex, I cannot let this go, this sex that they shared so frequently, so recklessly- as Lauren described to me earlier today. She told me such personal and erotic things about Lilly. Lauren shared these tales with a smirk, her husky voice filling the room we inhabited, her voice and intoxicating perfume- it filled me with such sadness, and yet at the same time, a streak of anger rushed through me- like electricity, it lit up my insides and combusted inside my chest. _

_I do not consider myself territorial in any regards- being possessive and jealous; these are pointless qualities that reach no true resolution. _

_However, in concerns to Lilly, the rules I have laid out for myself dissolve increasingly. I hate to feel this way, or even think it, but, Lilly she is… she is __mine__. And the sooner Lauren grasps this concept the better. I believe I made my statement very clear to her in the dressing room this afternoon- she was to no longer treat Lilly disrespect or come anywhere near her again. _

_I let my temper flare during this heated encounter. However, I remained strong, I could not let Lauren know that inside I was breaking in half, I could not let her see my cards. I believe I fooled her with my frosty exterior (it is possible that in another life I was an actress). But inside, my heart was breaking. I never knew sex was such a large component to Lilly. I suppose I never fully grasped the things Oliver said once, when he briefly explained Lilly's past relationships to me one evening while Lilly and Sarah were off together. I hate learning things from other people about Lilly. I hate that she can open herself so easily to them but not me. _

_I'm so very selfish- I want Lilly all to myself. Oliver I can stand, he is her best friend and I have long accepted this fact. However, if he looks to her in a way I saw once before, if he looks to her in a romantic light I will confront him, directly and politely. But with Lauren there is no room, I will not make exceptions for her. _

_Why does Lilly have to be so lovely? _

_She makes everyone fall in love her; wherever she goes she casts a spell. When her blue eyes connect to her yours- you are done for. _

_And she picked me. She told me I was "perfect." This lovely lady knows not what she does to me. _

_July _

_7:04AM- Lying in bed next to a sleeping Lilly_

_I press this journal into my raised knee and write into it very lightly because I have this laziness about myself this morning. My letters all roll together in a sloppy cursive mess and I smile, because my handwriting is light hearted, just like my chest- it is light and airy- feels like laundry pinned and waving in the wind on a fine sunny afternoon. _

_I'm so warm right now. _

_Lilly has an arm draped over my waist, her face pressed into my side- nuzzled up against me, she reminds me of a child when she sleeps. She is all smiles and rosy cheeks this morning. Her lips only slightly parted releasing soft sighs. _

_I'm so warm and happy right now. Happier then I have ever been, it feels. _

_I'm drunk with joy. I'm all sloppy smiles now, all frizzy hair and half dressed, because last night Lilly and I had sex- for the first time. I still feel her, hands cupping me gently, hot breath on my neck. I still remember that rolling wave of pleasure that washed over my body, made my toes curl and stomach contract in the most beautiful of ways. And just moments before, I made love to her. _

_I cannot describe what happened. I'm still overwhelmed (in the best of ways). The way she looked, the way her head titled backwards when I barely touched her… God, I never want to forget that look she wore- that look, it will surely stay with me forever. Her eyes wide and staring at me- just staring with this innocent unwavering trust, it was uprooting to me. And the sounds, the sounds that died deep in her throat when she reached her climax (all raspy whispers of my name). It's all so unraveling- and it feels good, to be this naked with someone, to have no barriers, everything stripped and there. She accepts me regardless of all my imperfections. And I take her; I take her above everything in my life. I grip her so tightly, because I cannot let her slip through my fingers. I won't let myself. _

_Oh, how I love her, how I love my Lilly flower._

I shut the journal with a loud _thud_ and cover my face with my hands. Misery becomes me. She lies! Oh how she lies! So sweet they appear, dripping with honey these lies of love and forever. I'm not sure how much more of this I can take. It feels like someone is wringing my heart out, squeezing it dry so no love or empathy can last.

We were so good. We had everything. And it's over, I must realize this, it is all over. We left each other.

I start flipping through the journal. I catch small glimpses of happy entries she has written about us- her words light and airy, she speaks of summer and our time spent back home in each other's company. I remember that summer; it is clean and open before me- that summer of naked bliss in my bedroom. But it soon came to a crashing halt when college loomed like a dark creature creeping forward.

_September_

_9:00PM- dorm room _

_Class today was awful. I ache everywhere, in places I rarely thought could ache. I feel foolish, thinking it would be an easy transition. A year with no ballet and then to through myself back into this schedule of constant movement, of early morning classes and late night sessions was foolish. Today we were let out early. I have no energy anymore. I can barely hold this pen up properly. _

_(late) September/pt. 2_

_11:15PM- dorm room desk_

_Sometimes I wish I could just disappear. And sometimes I feel as though I already have. When she is around I'm on fire, but in all the bad ways- as if I'm paper to her, and she is slowly burning me from the edge up, everything I've ever wanted or accomplished just left to nothing, left to ashes. When she speaks to me it is in riddles, her eyes catlike and focused when she looks at me from across the studio floor. And her touches, they are lingering and hot, not warm like Lilly. _

_Lilly_

_She is warm and solid and __there__. She is all things of passion and comfort._

_But this woman before me now, this used to be friend she is spiteful and vile. Her temper is wide and limitless, and when I slip up, my feet not quite on cue or arms not quite stretched far enough, she pounces on me- she bears her teeth and growls, throws insults like bricks at my chest-leaving me without breath, leaving me with this sting of ache and flush of embarrassment. _

_I' am fading, she says, my talents wasted, she whispers hauntingly in my ear after practice. My heart cannot take this. _

_Weak, she spits nastily when we are alone together, weak and useless. _

_My heart cannot take this. _

_My confidence and power that I once wore so freely, so effortlessly is lost somewhere and I can't find it, and she reminds me of this daily. _

_Lilly- I long for her in ways I cannot fully explore yet. If I think of my Lilly then my chest heaves unpleasantly and I find myself feeling torn apart. There is so much that I want, but I' am uncertain if I deserve this. _

_(late) September/pt. 3_

_4:13AM _

_I feel reenergized! Like someone has flipped a switch inside of me! Adrianna was right all along and I was a child to dismiss her before! My technique has improved significantly! The professors complement me freely and frequently now, and oh how I have missed the attention, oh how I lick up their deliciously sweet words of praise, it fuels me. I' am so alive! I never wish to cease practicing or rehearsing with the class. Adrianna and I spend hours and hours dancing in the studio long after the rest of the students go. _

_I can't remember the last time I had a decent night's sleep, but that doesn't matter- nothing matters but my art, my passion that surges through my veins with a ramped, untamed spirit. I cannot be stopped. This is all I have ever wanted, the lead roles, the professor's approval, the offers of big dance companies to work for them. All around me is promise. All around me is this bright light of the perfect future I had always planned for myself. _

_October_

_5:08PM- dance studio _

_Adrianna is simply jealous. She is a self centered bitch who doesn't know her place. I' am the leader. I' am the one who receives the top roles and most important part in the performances. I control this class of dancers- they listen to me, eat up my words like children, it is all so easy, leading them around by the nose. _

_But Adrianna seems to have gotten it inside her head (while I was absent) that she is the superior ballerina, and I had to inform her today that she is sadly mistaken. I' am the crowning performer, I' am the best. It has been a proven fact since the beginning, since we first met one another in our beginner ballet class all those years ago. Yes, Adrianna is a lovely dancer, yes she is disciplined- but I have that and more, I have pure unhampered talent. What she must strive for and sweat for comes to me naturally, without second guessing, without thought- I have it, simply put, and she doesn't. _

_And so, therefore, Adrianna is jealous and that is the only reasoning behind her wild outburst today when I was given the lead. _

_Oh, well, there is also her petty crush on me, but that was taken care of long ago. I very directly informed her that she couldn't touch Lilly. Adrianna is pour competition. Lilly is the winner, always. _

_(late) November_

_3:00PM- waiting for class, hallway_

_Adrianna's petty crush is getting bothersome. She has on many occasions pulled me aside to reiterate her feelings towards me. She has kissed her twice now. Each time I shove her aside with disgust- this is becoming all too much. I hold no affection for her whatsoever. She believes since we spend so much time together practicing and she retrieves my pills that we are growing towards something romantic, and we are not. It's so tedious, having to constantly watch myself around her, or having to again explain my feelings of indifference when it comes to her. How vain is she that she truly believes I would leave Lilly for her? Ridiculous._

_(late) November/ pt. 2_

_2:00PM- break time, few spare minutes, in hallway_

_Haven't had the time to journal lately… ballet is keeping my so very busy, I rarely sleep or eat, so journaling is far down the poll on my list of things to do… I went home for the holidays- I feel Lilly slipping through my fingers._

_(late) December _

_1:00AM- in bed, temper fading in and out_

_What was she expecting? _

_Did she truly expect me to follow her? Run crying after her begging on my hands and knees? I have pride. I have my reasons. I don't need her judging eyes and quivering chin. I don't need her darkened gaze of mistrust. I don't need her. _

_My career is what is important. My future, my goals, how can she not understand that? Lilly is a child. She is foolish and a silly light headed romantic. I live in the real world, where one needs to dirty their hands to achieve something greater. _

_But I just wish I could get that look she gave me out of my head. That look- that shattered expression. It pierces me. When I close my eyes it's there- burning inside my mind and I can't stop crying._

_I'm angry. _

_But I'm not._

_Why is everything so __fucking__ confusing?! _

_I feel like I'm not myself- like everything is laying in jagged pieces on the ground. I can't get it back to it's full image. My life is in too many tiny pieces, it has been broken too many times and therefore impossible for me to mend. This shaky foundation I built, it lays in ruins- too many long ugly cracks, problems I refused to fix in the moment have caused my empire to fall. _

_(This empire made of cards)_

_Maybe I wanted her to come back. _

_Maybe I wanted her to walk back inside my room and tell me it would all be alright. _

_Maybe I wanted her to try with me._

_But she left! She gave up! I always knew that one day she would truly see me- see my insides and know it wasn't worth wasting time on. One day she'd take a long look and notice all these ugly black marks and be disgusted, I knew this. It was an inevitable fate. And now that is has happened I'm done as well. _

_My rage is undefined; it runs in long ragged streaks without mercy, if she is finished with me then so be it- I'm not sorry. _

_(late) December/pt. 2_

_3:03AM- heart crying out, sitting outside on park bench_

_I feel hideous. _

_I' am a monster._

_My skin feels so unclean and full of absolute dirt (again). _

_I slept with her. _

_For reasons I do not know. _

_There was only anger inside of me tonight- my mind racing so quickly I could not control my actions. I just wanted that feeling to go away. But it remains. _

_This notion of __monster__. This notion that I hit my Lilly. I hit her. I crumpled a flower and spat on it for no good reason! _

_And then I betrayed her by sleeping with Adrianna. I just want this to all go away. I poured all the pills down the drain moments ago. I left Adrianna's dorm, (ran), I had to get away from that bed, that room- I wept when she touched me, I cried out in pain and remorse of my atrocious behavior, my tears streaming down my face in such a rush- Adrianna yelped in fear when I pushed her aside and tore out of the room, grabbing my clothes and slipping into them as I threw open the door. _

_I'm sitting alone now, the bench is cold, and there is barely enough light for me to write this all out- I just need to get this emotion out of my chest- oh how I wish I could plunge my hand inside and take out my heart- to stop this rapid beating, to cease these endless chaotic thoughts of my wrong doings. _

_There is a heavy weight on my chest- it presses into me when I think of everything I've said and done these past few months. This killing weight digs in harder and harder each time I replay those moments inside my head. _

_Who am I? _

_I cannot say anymore. _

_There are aspects about myself that I just cannot stand. They rub up against me and it makes me feel so raw. I 'am my own disability- my mind cripples me. My life, the course it has taken, is through no fault but my own. _

_I break myself time and time again. It feels as though I enjoy making myself miserable. I cannot bear to let myself feel joy for too long. _

_What am I doing?_

Breaking my heart, I think sadly while running the pads of my fingers over her frantic writing. You are breaking my heart- it feels like it's happening all over again. She pushes me to experience that moment again and feel the prickly ache all over my body. I should have stayed that day. I should have rooted my feet to her dorm flooring and protest. I should have fought more. Oh, when will we ever learn?

_(late) January_

_10:30AM- skipped class, in the park_

_It's been a while since I've written, let's catch up then oh secret journal…_

_Here's to the New Year. I write this with an empty heart and sarcastic tongue. Yes, yes, here is to another year I' am alive and ruining those around me- oh woe is me my self pity knows no end, does it? It simply grows and grows each passing day. _

_I'm a little drunk. _

_I snuck into Professor Goldman's office today, she loves me so I come and go as I please from her office- and I stole the bottle of wine (__Gallo Merlot) she keeps hidden under her desk. Crazy old bat. Who does that anyway? _

_You know, journal, you'd think I stay away from alcohol after that New Years Eve Party… There's another thing I'm not proud of, I suppose I should start making a list, calling up Lilly completely trashed. God, who knows what she must think of me. I can only imagine her dark eyes and wrinkled brow and that thing she does with her mouth, when she's displeased… that thing, I can't describe it… her mouth slants downward just a tad- but the real anger is always in her eyes… _

_Anyway. _

_Being drunk (well, only a little drunk) on a hill in the park isn't so bad. Amusing really. I'm people watching, that's what I'm doing today, I'm people watching. And it's great. I feel really good right now. _

_Well no I take that back- I feel like I'm detached from myself right now, yeah- like I'm not really here "here" like I'm… _

_I need to stop pausing and taking giant swigs of this wine. _

_My head is getting dizzy, I think I'll stop now secret journal, stop writing that is._

_(late) February _

_5:10PM- Dillion's kitchen, his mother made me some hot coco_

_A few things are coming together since I last wrote. Mostly thanks to Dillion, it never occurred to me how much time I let slip by between us. I was at a coffee house when I saw him, I was sipping my latte and reviewing schoolwork and then my eyes glanced to the left and there he was. We made eye contact and he walked quickly over to me with that smile- that wide lopsided grin that warms up an entire room. _

_I let him do all the talking, I kept my composure as best I could- talking is hard, listening is hard, acting like a regular person is exhausting to the point of insanity, but I listened closely as he spoke of school (he's quit ballet and now focusing on a career in theater management), and Jake, he spoke happily of his Jake (who desires to become an elementary school teacher). It made me feel good knowing Dillion was so happy, so content and put together. And in that moment I was so proud to know him, and call him friend. _

_However, then the conversation turned to me. He asked me of school, I gave a short reply (it's going well, I'm constantly dotted upon by professors, getting all the leads, all is well). He asked of Adrianna and my throat closed up and I shrugged (I've been avoiding her) and then he asked, simply, while taking a sip of coffee, "How is Lilly?" And I just couldn't do it anymore, my composure broke in half and right there at the round cafe table I began to cry. It was humiliating and still is when I think back on it. Crying freely in front of people is mortifying, I have only shed tears in front of two people my entire life. And now I must add Dillion to that list. _

_I remember his face, sheer panic streaking across his handsome features. I felt so childish sitting there sniffling and gasping for breath as I wiped my wet eyes. It was all so ridiculous, he just asked a stupid question, just said her name and I broke apart. He took me home after that. I hadn't been to his house in ages, but it was so familiar, his mother wrapped her arms around me when I got there, she kissed my cheeks and wondered why I hadn't been around in so long. _

_But what was most embarrassing was the evening Dillion found me frantically looking for my dealer's number. Getting off the pills seemed harder then I thought. I just wanted to feel energized again, wanted that rush. Dillion was furious that night, he took the number, after I'd found it, and tore it to shreds, flinging the pieces of paper in all directions. We fought that night, the only fight we've ever really had. His mother heard us and demanded to know the issue at hand. Her disappointed face was like a hard slap across my cheek. _

_That was the first domino to fall; the next was Dillion's mother calling my father. And then everything came crashing down. I will always remember my father's voice from that phone conversation; his words will ring in my ears forever, "This is not you, I don't know what you did to my Miley, but you are not her!" _

_But things are better now. It is in no way fixed- I'm not native to believe so, to believe that things are fixed to easily, so quickly like that. I know I have lost the respect and trust of many. I know that Lilly will never want me again. I know that my father is disappointed with how my life is turning up to be. I know that Dillion is afraid of me; he sometimes glances at me with this look of uncertainty, as if I'm going to snap, going to tear something apart. I don't know, maybe I will. Who is to say anymore? _

_March _

_11:12PM- Bathtub, she said once it was a good thinking place_

_Dillion asked me, point blank, today while we were waiting for Jake to get out of his last class, Dillion and I were seated on the stone steps, and he asked me, "Do you love her, still?" _

_It caught me completely off guard. He hasn't even mentioned her since my break down in the coffee shop last month. I stared at him with my mouth opening and closing, my mind racing and heart pounding with a certain rush at the briefest mention of her. Suddenly the roof of my mouth was very dry and I couldn't think properly, my thoughts were all tangled in that moment and still are. I didn't answer his question, just looked at him until the door burst open and Jake came walking out looking haggard but happy to see us. And then Dillion dropped the subject. _

_And now, many hours later, the question haunts me. I can't sleep. And I find myself craving a place to think- so the bathtub. But it feels odd in here, as if I'm stealing something that is primarily hers alone, as if I'm stepping on or mudding up some pure aspect of her in this moment. My connections to this tub are nonexistent, I have no appreciation. All I'm thinking about is the kink in my neck and how awkward this is, to be writing laying back like this. _

_But at the same time I feel like I should be here. Because when I think of her sometimes I picture her in the bathtub. And I suppose… I suppose I wanted to experience the things she does/did when resting inside her safe/sad place. Because right now I don't know where she is or what she's doing or saying or experiencing but I feel closer then ever before to her, resting in here. And that notion is good- feeling close to her without actually, tangibly being close- touching her. _

"_Do you love her, still?" _

_I don't know. _

_But why are you here, a voice echoes inside me, why are you inside this tub, her secret place? _

_I don't know._

_(late) April _

_7:70PM- my house, sitting on deck_

_Oh, how humorous, the way she and I protect each other- from ourselves…_

_Because I would destroy her, already have maybe_

_Because I would be the death of her,_

_(This is why I refused her)_

_I would run us into the ground, and nail our coffins shut._

**XxXxXxXxX**

**Author's Note:** I'm not even going to try and explain why I disappeared this time. I went a little insane, you know how it is. Leave your thoughts.

**Randomness: **Shows I'm currently obsessed with and you should be too:

_Skins_- reasons to love it? Good/realistic acting, lots of random sex and drug usage, the best lesbian couple of all time (who are "very disgraceful young women"), leopard print clothes, and lastly Cassie's epic "Wow."

_Glee_- reasons to love it? Goosebumps worthy singing, Rachel Berry (the sexy Jew), Kurt's fashion/epic gayness, and Sue (mostly Sue and her amazing-ness-ness), and Brittany (who still thinks there's a duck in that hat).

_Misfits_- reasons to love it? Superpowers, Nathan's epic quotes, and not so believable yet at the same time kind of sort of believable storylines, oh and superpowers (yes, it needs to be there twice).


	55. Yours Always

**Author's Note: **Much thanks to Bon Iver's music (his EP _Blood Bank_ and CD _For Emma, Forever Ago_) great tunes, all of them, take a look if the urge should find you, especially his number _Stacks_, it played while I wrote.

_**The Rising Tide**__**-**_ The first few lines of your review had me laughing, I smile each time I reread it. I hold your longest review? Aww shucks, now I'm red in the face. Also, yes, I'm horrible- even the happy journal entries Miley wrote are sad to Lilly and us (the readers/writer) but I had to do it, because to me (if I were Lilly) that's what I'd be thinking and I'd be pretty damn depressed.

I like that you brought up your concerns about the drastic change in Miley's voice during those specific journal entries (like I said before, you always pick up on certain things that I like my readers to comment on, so thanks). Here's my reasoning: I think once placed back into her old environment (without Lilly or her dad to distract her) Miley would slip back into her past self's skin very easily- because it's familiar and Miley's old world is very cut throat and very eat or be eaten (which is why chapter 30 is called _The Jargon of Eating_), least that's how I see it, however I'm very open to whatever the readers think, I never tell anyone how to view or "accurately" receive these characters, because there's no right or wrong way.

Also, I just loved your comments on how Miley describes Lilly- that was so awesome. Because, yes, Lilly sees herself as this terrible cynical individual, but she's not and we see that through Miley's more level headed observations.

_Ahhh_ Lauren, I love her too. I seriously have this urge to write a long pointless monolog from her point of view about everything in the "Pause and Rewind" story. And, lastly, yes (a thousand times yes) Yo-Yo Ma must be loud; Miley was my voice during that particular journal entry.

_**Anonymous Reader1**__**- **_You know what? It's totally cool that you don't review, honestly I never expect people to do so, nor do I have a "policy" about it. Because I'm a shitty reviewer, I never know what to say and even if I do comment on someone's story I always feel like I didn't do it well enough afterwards, so I understand why people just don't have it in them to do so, and it's all good. But that isn't to say I didn't greatly enjoy your review- because I most certainly did. _Ahhh_ man, you mentioned "One Art," to me it feels like such a long time ago… but that story is like my baby, really. It was my first "serious" and somewhat lengthy Lilly/Miley story. Anyway, thanks for taking the time to drop a few lovely words of encouragement my way, and you should try writing, I have a feeling you'd be great at it.

_**BrokenFantasy666**__**-**_ _What_?! You thought I'd given up? Never, my friend, never, I'm no quitter! Anyway, I'm always tickled pink when I see that people get others to read this story too, so I'm glad you and your partner are enjoying it!

_**Gentry**__**- **_I chuckled when I realized we have opposing view points, but that makes it all the more interesting. I actually have an Edgar Meyer album! I'm a huge fan of instrumental music, classical, jazz, whatever and yes Zigeunerweisen is amazing. You play the bass? Aw, I'm so envious. I've dabbled with the alto saxophone, I'm rubbish, but it's fun, I play a little jazz whenever the mood strikes me. Currently I've been obsessing over Chopin's Piano Sonata No. 2 in B flat minor Op. 35: III. Marche funèbre (Lento).

_**Unknown lazy ass**__**-**_ Well damn, honestly that's my reaction. First thing, I'm glad you overcame your anger towards me. Though, if you ever have harsh criticism in any shape or form let me have it, truly, throw it my way, I'm always all ears for someone who has a problem or question or anything. Delicate is not a word to describe me when it comes to this, I can handle tough opinions. But moving onward!

You are so generous with your words, you humble me in ways I cannot fully describe- just needed to say that.

And yes, Miley was heavily masked throughout this process until now. One thing you mentioned had me gapping; really, you thought Miley had no sex-drive? Wow, you're so good! In my opinion, if Miley had never been raped, or never met Lilly, she would have been asexual. And yes, I know in earlier chapters Adrianna stated that Miley was "boy crazy," however Miley loved the attention boys gave her not necessarily the physical aspects, just the adoration and complements- which is why the short lived romantic relationship between Miley and her friend Dillon worked so well, Dillon was gay and therefore would never want to take their relationship to that level and Miley would never push it- so, really only Lilly puts those "sexual" feelings into Miley… sorry, I'm rambling, but in closing I was ecstatic when you made that observation. Also, yeah *laughs* Miley is only possessive when it comes to Lilly, otherwise Miley feels those emotions (jealousy, possessiveness) are just plain silly, she's a very detached person at times, almost scientific when deciding how to feel.

Another point you made that I enjoyed was your reasoning as to why Miley let Lilly go, that dancing was her life- it was such a great comment, because it's so very true- dancing to her is everything, it's her life's foundation so of course she wouldn't leave that for something so unknown and fickle such as love. Your quote of the week was much appreciated; it was one of my favorite parts to write actually because it was rather humorous. Lastly, to answers your question, **YES** I'm so excited for Skins! I'm practically bursting! And if they destroy Naomi and Emily I just may be depressed forever, oh woe is me. Anyway, it's great seeing you again and your review it's just… ugh, no words, I'm rather speechless, I'm just sitting here thinking I really just don't deserve all this attention from you or everyone else. So thank-you.

_**GlisteningShadow**__**-**_ Oh bite your tongue, you give such lovely reviews. Your words read like poetry to me. (And I' am a lover of poetry). I'm so pleased to see that you are truly immersed into this story, that it is something you can enjoy and escape into. It's so wonderful hearing that and I'm grateful you shared those words with me.

_**Deka Lopez Granger**__**-**_ Well, I thank-you for reviewing. And yes, don't even get _me_ started on the Emily/Naomi amazing-ness, seriously, I'll blab on forever. Also, you should really watch _Misfits_, it's hilarious. People call it a mixture between _Skins_ and _Heroes_.

**XxXxXxXxX**

My coffee is cold and I'm sitting, not moving. A piece of paper has fluttered out of the journal. I do not touch it, I just stare. It was trapped somewhere in the back of the journal, like an afterthought, the paper is wrinkled and folded. Breathing in I take it up and gingerly unfold it, smooth it out on the table and begin reading.

_Lilly,_

_No one has ever seen this journal._

_I wanted you to have it._

_To keep it company- I have always trusted your hands._

_I'm sure you have questions, and because I' am a coward, I felt this journal would do the work for me, answer those questions._

_I cannot even begin to fathom your thoughts now._

_Against my better judgment I have enclosed my e-mail address. _

_If the urge strikes you, write to me._

_Yours,_

_Miley _

Exhausted, I fold the paper back up and slip it neatly into the journal. The day is slowly slipping to night and I find myself drained of all emotion. There is so much static in my head- thoughts, so many thoughts and I can't understand them because they run too fast, not giving me a chance to breathe and catch up to them, so I can examine them, label them and know that, yes this is the emotion I'm feeling. But it's not like that. I feel like I've just been hit with twenty thousand different emotions and I can't decide which are mine and which are hers, and which to keep. It's like both of our hearts are mashed together so haphazardly and it is madness because we aren't in tune, just… feeling the same thing but at different times and it's too confusing to grasp.

I leave the journal resting quietly (for once, normally it screams out to me, but now that it is finished, has told me it's stories, it lays dead) on the kitchen table. I dump the rest of my coffee into the sink and watch as it mucks up the white surface there. Flipping the facet switch I rinse my mug and the bottom of the sink and let the water run down the drain, cleaning my mess. I watch the water with bored interest.

I'm so tired.

I feel like a deflated balloon. (Ha.) Like the one I saw once at the carnival with Nate when we were young. It was dark out and we passed it on our way to the car. A sky blue colored balloon with a giant hole, disregarded on the cracked cement sidewalk amongst the popcorn and tickets, I saw it first. I observed it as Nate held my hand, pulling me away from the colorful carnival lights and joyous screams, I observed it.

I plop myself onto the brown couch, and lay my head on the armrest, my eyes, naturally, finding the windows that rest in a row of three in the living room. These windows over look the long dirt path lined with trees varying in sizes and kinds.

The sun is setting, a round orange ball on the horizon. My eyes feel heavy; I close them and try not to think of her.

A failed attempt, of course because the moment my eyes close I see her next to me. I feel her stroking my hair like she used to do at night in bed- that slow stroke of her fingers, tangling in and out of my hair. And now I feel cemented to her almost- having caught a small glimpse into her head- having seen her actual thoughts- I'm bound to her, in a way.

I hold my eyes closed together tighter, trying to separate us. I need to be separate from her. It was rather cruel of her to leave me this journal, and an address to reach her. So many open outlets left up to me. It isn't fair. What is she asking? How much more of me does she desire? Here I thought I had given it up to her long before, because I haven't felt my heartbeat in such a long time.

XxXxXxXxX

The escalator brings me down, my bags in hand and my head achy from the flight (I was seated next to a very large business man with a fear of flying- he screamed when we took off, clutched the armrests and fucking screamed…) It's too warm in the airport and even in my gray t-shirt and faded jean shorts I'm sweating a little, I look forward to taking a cold shower and sleeping for the rest of the day and possibly calling Oliver this evening, I wonder if he could make sense of all this.

I spot Aunt Alessandra immediately, she's wearing a fashionable sleeveless black dress and dark sunglasses that cover most of her face, and she's waving franticly at me with a large lipstick smile. I laugh because there's nothing else I can do; I just laugh and walk over into her shoulder embrace (she smells like that big red cinnamon gum).

"And who are we today?" I ask as we make our way through the crowd of people.

"Oh, you mean my current outlandish getup? Well, I'm a spy, dear Lillian, wasn't it obvious with my sunglasses?" She asks lifting the glasses up into her graying brown hair.

I reach the door first, open it and Aunt Alessandra glides through with a smiling thank-you.

"The taxi man is most likely peeved," She reports as we walk briskly down the sidewalk, "I told him to wait here for us, but that was over thirty minutes ago…" She trails off searching for the cab driver.

"You know you didn't need to pick me up… I've done this before…" I mumble standing next to her as we watch cars and taxis alike rush passed.

Alessandra shakes off my statement with a flick of her wrist, "Nonsense, Lillian, you and I are comrades now, aren't we? I do admit there being a time in the beginning when we first met that I was uncertain of your character, however I have come to terms with you and now we are friends, yes?"

She waves down a taxi as I nod, grinning ear to ear, "Yes, we are good chums now."

"Excellent!" She replies sliding into the cab, modestly adjusting her dress and I follow, ducking my head, into the air conditioned taxi.

"So how is my favorite nephew?" She asks while we are whisked away, the yellow cab tearing through the city streets.

"Oliver's fine and he said he's going to visit in the summer," I say, watching the window.

"Oh that's positively grand, it's been too long since his last visit, by the way Harold has been asking of you, Lillian, about that play?"

I groan on the inside, slouching deeper into my seat, "Tell Harold to back off, yeah? When it's done, I'll show it."

Aunt Alessandra laughs, "You writers! And they say the actors are divas!"

XxXxXxXxXxX

Back in the attic, I stand in the doorway with my bag in hand, just looking. The bed is just as I left it (though Aunt Alessandra claims she washed the sheets). The desk has not been touched (she promised me that, said she didn't even glance at my scribbles). The dresser is still brown, still holding my extra clothes, only now on top of the dresser are framed photos.

There's a few of me and Oliver as children- we have our arms around each other and are laughing with sunburned faces and missing teeth (Aunt Alessandra said she decorated the room a little, she framed the photos, having found them from her old collection, back when Oliver's parents used to send her pictures in the mail with reports on Oliver's well being). And then there are the photos I brought with me, the photos I thought I kept well hidden in my sock drawer, clever I' am not when it comes to hiding, because there they are- framed and staring back at me.

Nate, of course, here he is at the age of four asleep in the little red wagon we got for Christmas one year. My mother took that picture, I remember because I was standing behind her that day. Another, I look to the left and find Nate staring back at me at the age of ten, he is holding up a picture he painted in art class, not smiling, not exactly, the emotion lays in his eyes, this sense of pride, sense of a job well done.

And then, because yes I still have it, a photo of Miley, the one of her looking relaxed in the green armchair inside my room, she's half asleep. Oliver took that photo, while I was downstairs, he gave it to me the next day, said I needed a picture of her. When I laughed, asked why, Oliver just shrugged and said, _"To capture a moment, to say that at one time she felt so at home in your room, she drifted to sleep."_

I consider turning that picture frame over so I won't be forced to look at it, but I stop myself, because I'm not done with her, not yet. There's always a maybe lingering in my head…

Two hours later, I'm unpacked, showered and lying in bed, body so tired I'm shocked I'm still conscious. But my head is a little restless, so I lay still and try to quiet myself. I remember a time not so long ago when I could just call her when I couldn't sleep, or take a midnight drive and be welcomed by her warm bed and soft arms around me and that would do the trick; I would sleep like a baby.

I lean over, drag out my duffle bag from underneath the bed and pull out her journal. It's heavy in my hand, but that's okay, I lay back into the mattress and gently place the brown leather book onto my chest- a comforting weight. _There_, it's like I can feel her, _there_, I close my eyes and all is silent.

XxXxXxXxXxX

_Fuck_ _me_! I forgot how much I love the city! Oh I let it take me; swallow me whole because I never want to leave it! I love the noise and the shops and the sidewalks littered with cigarette buds. I love the crowds of pushing people, the subways lined with graffiti. The good and the bad mashed together is what I love, I take it all with eminent pleasure. And when I walk the streets, going towards my train, I feel a sense of belonging. The city, with all its flaws and beauty, the city is my home.

I've taken back my position as the secretary in the theater. Harold is happy to see me in the mornings when I'm making coffee or scheduling school field trips to the theater house (this weekend Harold's junior theater group is performing _Cinderella_ for the local elementary school kids). Things are moving smoothly. I have a schedule now, I work mornings, 7:00am-11:00am and then take a two hour break, which I usually spend at the café down the street eating and writing, then return to the theater for Harold's senior theater group's rehearsals that last well into the evening sometimes. My job, during rehearsal, is to basically be Harold's bitch.

Sometimes I work the props section; I paint the trees green, or sand down one of the chairs for the next show. Sometimes I'm back stage running lines with one of the actors. I'm making under minimum wage, but it's okay. It's not like I really need money. Hooray for rich parents, I suppose. And besides, I enjoy my work- I'm writing and getting my hands dirty in the theater business. I'm learning the ropes, getting my toes wet.

Sundays I have off, another reason why I'm getting paid so little- I don't do much. This job was given to me as a charity case, I know this, another reason is because Aunt Alessandra is rich as hell and pays for everything in the theater and Harold pretty much loves me. And oddly enough I'm perfectly content with that notion, I don't care what got me this job, this new lifestyle, only that it's mine and I'm going to keep it.

Sundays are nice days, I usually take my writing journal and explore. I spend a large amount of time in the park. I flip coins (dollars too if I have any) into the musician's cases. I watch children play freeze tag in the grass while their parents set up their picnic supplies. And sometimes I just ride the metro, I get on and ride them all over, meeting people coming or going to work, meeting people who are down on their luck, bodies sagging, faces drawn to the floor. Sundays are good days.

XxXxXxXxX

Oliver and I are texting. I'm lying on my bed in the attic, my phone resting heavily on my chest, eyes focused to the ceiling waiting for his reply. I feel the familiar vibration and slide my phone open quickly.

_Triple O: She gave you her journal? Wow. What r u gonna do now?_

_Lil: IDK_

_Triple O: What did you find out?_

_Lil: She's a mess_

_Triple O: Didn't we already know that?_

_Lil: Worse then I thought._

_Triple O: I'm really sorry_

_Lil: Don't be_

_Triple O: Are you okay? Do you need to talk, like real talk?_

_Lil: No_

_Triple O: …Sure?_

_Lil: Yes_

_Triple O: Fine. I need to go, hw to do_

I turn my phone on silent and roll over, body sagging pleasantly into the bed.

XxXxXxXxX

I have been having these dreams, lately. It's the same, but each night something is added on to the dream… I'm riding in a train, my head pressed up against the glass window. The train is moving so fast but I catch glimpses of trees and dirt roads and small villages… but then later in my dream, Miley is seated across from me and she's reading to me, quietly, but she's reading to me _Roman de la Rose_ in that perfect voice she does- all low and husky, the poem from her lips, I watch them in my dream, her lips moving over the words… and just when she looks up, her eyes finding mine, I wake up, my heart in my mouth and my breath lost somewhere, possibly hiding underneath the bed.

XxXxXxXxX

I'm in Aunt Alessandra's den staring at her acient computer screen. I've successfully opened up my e-mail account (took ages for it to fucking load) and now I'm currently staring at the blank white page in front of me. I look to Miley's note, her e-mail address is just waiting, waiting for me to use.

She gave it to me.

So that obviously means she wants me to contact her.

Right?

Damn it! Fucking fuck!

"Lillian?"

"_What_?"

Alessandra peeks into the room smiling, "How's the letter writing going?"

"It's called e-mailing."

"Yes, well, how is it then?"

"Fine."

I hear her laugh as she shuffles away, back down the hallway.

I enter the address quickly and go back to staring, what do I even say to her? What is this emotion I'm feeling now? Anxiety? My mouth is dry and there's this prickly sensation in my throat. God, am I having a panic attack? No, stop being so dramatic! Just write, just start writing…

_Miley-_

_I read your journal. _

_Well, I suppose that's obvious what with me sending you a note like this. _

_Anyway. _

_I hope things are going well with you. Your dad informed me that __you are living with Dillon, that notion makes sense to me now- having read that particular entry in your journal. _

_I have so many feelings, in concerns to what you wrote. I have so many questions in my head, but I can't articulate them properly. _

_Why did you give me your journal? I have ideas, I have assumptions… but it remains my one true standing question. Why? _

_You said no, that evening we spent at your house, y__ou said no. You said you needed time to put yourself back together, see yourself differently, be whole again- I understand this now, but why would you torture me this way? You gave me such a large piece of yourself, you gave me insight and now what- I have nothing but this yearning to know where we are, where we stand. _

_I'm not angry, don't take it that way, please. I just need to hear from you again. I just need to know what's going on inside your head. _

_Always,_

_Lilly_

XxXxXxXxX

It's been two days (two agonnizing days filled with me constantly checking my e-mail and biting my nails) and now I'm staring at the computer screen at the theater's front desk, where there's a bold face 1 in my inbox.

_Lilly,_

_I have read your note several times. It took me all of two days to digest it, know what I was going to say- and even now, with all the time I've taken away from you, all this time I've made you wait just trying to fully explain myself in written form- I still don't know anything. _

_Why, you asked, why I gave you my journal? Because you __deserved to know. There are things I could never say out loud, things that I could only write, and for so long I have wanted to share everything with you- open up to you, but I couldn't bring myself to do so. I never meant to torture you, and knowing that you feel this way towards the journal pierces me. I only wanted to make things better for you. I thought giving you something that I kept so close, so secret would… help you, in a way, to move forward. I thought it would make you see me, really see me. I'm imperfect, I wanted you to see that. _

_I'm not making much sense. _

_I'm sorry I hurt you, it was never my intention. _

_Where we stand, you asked? This is impossible for me to answer. For I' am a lost sailor in this storm of uncertainty. _

_Yours,_

_Miley_

A day later and I'm sitting at the front desk in the theater not working but using the computer for my own selfish needs. I type my response to her slowly.

_Lost Sailor,_

_Today during my afternoon stroll I passed a small green patch of untouched earth in the city. It was a square of grass stuck between two tall buildings, growing in that green grass patch were dandelions. I thought it was beautiful. I want you to tell me something you found unexpectedly beuatiful beautiful today. _

_Sometimes I think it's easier to look at the world and see all the bad aspects, all the horrific violence and blood shed each day. It's so easy to look at the world and notice only the ugly, see only the worst in people. _

_It's hard, finding beauty sometimes. It's hard after a long day of disappointment after disappointment- an argument with a loved one, the loss of a job, a death in the family, car troubles, financial despair, it's hard to get back up (dust off the dirt) and smile and say, "Beautiful." _

_And when I read things, like your e-mail, like your journal, and you show me all these sides of yourself and ask me to turn away, to move on, and leave you- I feel my chest tighten, because no, my answer is always no. I see the beauty in you, even if you don't. _

_[...don't you see, lost sailor, you are perfect, to me you are so perfect]_

_Always,_

_Lilly_

I hit send without even rereading my words. I hit send feeling a rush of adrenalin spread through my body.

XxXxXxXxX

Time moves slowly. I get up, go to work, write nonsensical bullshit called playwrighting and fall asleep. I'm in constant wait for her reply, I live for them. I hold my breath each time I wait for my e-mail account to load on Aunt Alessandra's ancient computer. Today I'm drumming my fingers impatiently, chest frozen, waiting… waiting… waiting… yes!

_Dandelion_,

_Last night I was at a local diner stirring my tea and reviewing for an exam and when I happened to look up from my reading I saw an elderly man wiping down the long red counter of the diner. He was smiling softly, I saw his lips under the prickly gray hairs of his bread… he was humming too, I don't know the song, but he looked so happy there, in a stained apron and with a smudge of something or other on his right cheek. He looked content, he looked satisfied with his day, his work, that counter he was cleaning- he looked happy. And that, to me, was very beautiful. _

_That second half of your note I choose to ignore, because to be open to that concept, that idea you have of me, scares me to death._

_And now, I ask something of you: What is your favorite color? (Juvenile, I know, but nevertheless I love this question, I love it because it makes me feel as though I'm five-years old sitting in a kindergarten class trying to pick out a crayon…) And please, don't give me the cliché response of "I love all the colors," because that sounds like something you writers would do and because that is simply unacceptable, everyone has a favorite color. _

_Yours,_

_Miley_

**XxXxXxXxX**

**Author's Note:** I have a question for you, (which orginated from a night of discussion with a few comrades), what drives you to write? Whether it's here on fanfiction or alone in your room or whatever. What force drives you to put words on paper? I'm just curious… and okay yeah maybe a little nosey. Oh and if I missed anyone, with giving out responses to your wonderful reviews, I do apologize. I try to get to those who have questions or make comments I need to elaborate on- but I really do appreciate everyone's words and input, I don't think I can stress that enough, it means the world to me knowing people are enjoying this silly story of mine. Leave your thoughts.


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